X4: Rise of Apocalypse
by Mike N
Summary: Angel's disappearance sets events in motion that lead the X-Men into a dangerous battle with an ancient enemy. Will the return of felled X-Men, the might of the Fantastic Four, and the wall-crawling Spiderman be enough to help them save the world?
1. Chapter 1

I.

Warren Worthington III had no idea the horrible danger he had stumbled upon until it was too late.

After the incident with his father's laboratory and the controversial "cure," Warren decided to officially join Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, a place he felt he belonged. Not only that, but he asked Ororo Munroe, the headmistress, if he could join the exclusive X-Men, an honor bestowed upon only the most deserving faculty and students. Known for their heroic deeds, the X-Men were a clandestine group based out of the school who had gained notoriety around the country.

Several months passed, and Warren continued to mature, both personally and in the use of his powers. Affectionately dubbed Angel, Warren was strikingly handsome with sandy blond hair messily swept back from his face, a lean body, and a confident posture. But the thing that garnered Warren the name, which he now used as his codename, was the pair of radiant white wings that protruded from his back. With his broad wings fully outstretched, Warren was an amazing sight to behold. He had learned more about himself and flying than he ever thought possible, thanks to the other resident flyers, Ororo Munroe and Sean Cassidy.

After a mysterious call from Moira MacTaggart from Muir Island, Hank McCoy talked to the team about heading down to Egypt. She had detected a strange spike of mutant energy that had disappeared nearly as quickly as it had appeared. Hank conferred with the team and suggested they all check it out. But Warren immediately recognized one of the projects his father now sponsored.

Sponsoring several archeological digs, Worthington Labs now sought to research human evolution, to include the recent emergence of mutants, through fossils and long-buried clues, which recently had shown that some of the gods ancient civilizations worshipped could have in fact been mutants. They had made astounding progress in their endeavor and had attracted worldwide praise and criticism for their findings.

Warren suggested that the spike was probably nothing and that he would travel to Egypt and investigate by himself. Since it was his father's company, he figured it would be easier to maneuver through the red tape. He could get a private jet down and probably take a helicopter directly to the site. Though Ororo was reluctant to let anyone venture out on their own, only after Warren assured her that he would be fine did she allow him to go.

He slept for most of the plane ride there, aware that when he arrived, it would probably be nighttime. Warren was then escorted from the plane to a helicopter, which arrived at the site in less than thirty minutes.

Warren leaped from the helicopter, dressed in khakis, hiking boots, and a t-shirt. His wings were bound underneath a jacket as to not attract unwanted and unnecessary attention. He covered his face as he squinted through the dust storm the helicopter kicked up. He spotted a woman waving to him through the haze, and Warren quickly closed the distance between them as the helicopter took off.

"Warren Worthington?" she shouted over the roar of the helicopter.

Warren nodded, throat still scratchy from some dust he had inadvertently inhaled. When his bout of coughing subsided, he regarded Lorna with a smile. He had imagined a woman much older with thick glasses, leathery skin, and a crackly voice. But she was the total opposite of that. If anything, she had some rather unique qualities about her.

The first was her hair and eyebrows, colored a light but subdued green. Against her fair skin, it actually seemed natural. In addition, her emerald green eyes twinkled with both curiosity and confidence. Her khaki shorts showed off long, toned legs, and her button down shirt, which was tied at the waist, exposed a fine set of abs and a curvaceous bust line.

Meeting Warren's gaze, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself as Lorna Dane, and immediately began leading him to another location. "I'm in charge of this excavation. How much do you know about this dig?"

"Only what Dr. McCoy told me. There was a strange flux of energy in the area, which registered on our computers and some of the equipment at Muir Island. We're just making sure there's no trouble."

"I understand. As you know, we're searching for evidence of the existence of mutants before now, which has led us to this spot. We found some old scrolls that told of an entity called En Sabah Nur." As if knowing Warren was going to ask a question, Lorna added, "It means the first one."

"The first one of what?"

Lorna stopped for a moment. "It's highly believed and supported by texts we've deciphered that this person could have been the first mutant." Lorna began walking and Warren followed, for some reason chilled by what he just heard.

They continued to walk through a makeshift tent city. There were a few other notable people standing about, but Lorna ignored most of them and headed straight toward two men that didn't look pleased at all with Warren's presence.

Lorna noticed their expressions and glanced at Warren. "That's Shiro Yoshida," Lorna paused for effect, "and a mutant. He's a renowned superhero in his country. Shiro's here as a representative of Japan, who helped finance a portion of this dig."

Lorna motioned to the other with a quick head nod. "And that's Hector Caliban. He's been doing digs like this for years, an expert. Despite his rough attitude, he's been an invaluable asset to this project."

"And what about you?"

She smiled. "I'm a geophysicist. I've been running this entire excavation since it started." Lorna led him to the two men standing next to one of the larger tents in the camp.

"I thought you said one of the X-Men was coming along," Hector Caliban pointedly said, giving Warren a withering glance. "I was expecting that beautiful African or maybe that sultry red-head. Even that Southern belle would have been nice. But this guy is just the head honcho's son."

"Why _is_ he here, Lorna?" Shiro Yoshida asked, as if making it a point to give Warren the sense that he was an unwelcome outsider.

Lorna replied, "Warren's here on behalf of the X-Men, endorsed by Dr. Hank McCoy. They detected a subtle power spike with their equipment as well. Since this excursion is funded by Worthington Incorporated, Warren volunteered to assist."

"I don't need some high-flying, rich boy X-Man tagging along," Hector shot.

"And I really don't need a loud-mouthed, obnoxious dimwit with us either. But we don't get to choose our company. So like it or not, Warren's with us." Lorna locked eyes with Hector, readily accepting his challenge, praying that he would take it a step farther. But Hector conceded, waving his hands in surrender.

"Whatever," Hector blew the comment off and began to prep his backpack for the descent.

Lorna gave a smirk of triumph then began barking orders. "Okay, let's get ready to enter the tomb. Doug, monitor our progress," she called over to the computer technician. He threw a thumbs up her way, then returned to his work, seemingly at home with the computers. Doug Ramsey looked like he was much more suited to monitor their progress than to actually be in the tomb, uncovering ancient mysteries.

A mild-mannered technician, Doug's boyish face betrayed his young age and the vast amount of intelligence he had, having been recruited to participate in such an important undertaking. Shaggy blond hair managed to fall into his eyes after a few minutes of typing, which he automatically swept back to the left, leaving his dark brown eyes to continue scanning the computer screen without obstruction.

"We'll be in radio contact with you the entire time," Doug turned halfway from the computer. "You all should be careful down there."

Lorna smiled, surprised by his genuine concern. It was really the first time she had to deal with him since they first started. Most of the time, she managed the dig from the nerve center, never really venturing out into the field. But with her boyfriend, Alex Summers, currently working for Dr. Nathaniel Essex, Lorna felt she needed something to take her mind off the fact that she missed him.

Lorna turned back to Shiro and Hector. "Are you two ready to go?"

They both nodded, grabbing their respective equipment. Hector had a palm-sized console that looked expensive and sophisticated. Shiro threw a worn satchel over his shoulder and fell in behind Lorna and Warren. Hector took up the rear.

Warren glanced back and noticed Shiro and Hector were far enough away not to hear if he whispered something to Lorna, if super hearing wasn't one of their powers.

"Hey, thanks for earlier," Warren whispered.

Lorna smiled, her voice just a little above a whisper. "No problem. You just have to know how to handle these guys. Are you ready for this?"

Warren nodded assuredly as Lorna led them into the depths of the tomb. As they progressed, Warren noticed Hector taking readings with the device he had, while Shiro had taken out a small notebook and scribbled annotations every so often. Lorna's flashlight bobbed back and forth as they seemingly walked for hours. Warren was caught a little off guard by the size of the hallways. There was no way he could fly through such a small space.

They crossed a bridge that teetered over nothing then ended in a large room. Warren expected to see gold and antique treasures scattered about. But the room was bare, save a rather large casket against the far wall. Movement from the other side of the room caught Warren's eye.

"Who's there?" he called.

The figure stepped into the dim light, his face still hidden by shadows. Assuming it was a he, the man was dressed in a long robe with a sash across the chest, one that Warren always imagined prophets or philosophers to wear.

"Welcome," the man's gravelly voice echoed in the tomb. "You must be here to place an offering for my lord."

Lorna shined her flashlight in the man's direction. "Offering? No, not at all. Are you lost?" Lorna assumed that the man was a native that had somehow gotten past their security, which was supposed to be impenetrable, and gotten turned around down here. There was no telling how long he had been wandering around, but because he didn't seem to have any food or water, it couldn't have been more than a few hours at most.

"Lost?" the man repeated and chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh that boomed off the walls. "No, child, not lost."

"Who the hell are you then?" Hector probed.

The man stepped forward. Warren immediately noticed that something was quite wrong with him. His clothing, face, and hands were all the color of wet sand, somehow animated by means incomprehensible to Warren.

"My name is Ozymandias," he replied. "And you should watch your tongue in the presence of the great Apocalypse."

"Apocalypse?" Lorna repeated, feeling that they had uncovered something dangerous. "This is the burial location of En Sabah Nur, the first one."

"One in the same," Ozymandias answered calmly. "Come, step forward to pay tribute to the great Apocalypse."

"We are not here for offerings," Shiro replied with heightened tension.

Ozymandias suddenly regarded them with disgust. "If you are not here to give offerings, then you must be tomb raiders. And as such, you will be punished."

"Punished?" Shiro drew his hand across the air, a band of flames leaving behind a trail which quickly dissipated. "No one will be punished on this day."

"Shiro, wait!" Lorna cried, but the warning came too late. Shiro let a blazing fireball rip forward toward Ozymandias. The strange messenger stood fast as the infernal flames wrapped around him, scorching the ground around him.

"Too hot for you, fly boy?" Hector jeered, noticing Warren's expression.

Warren stood in shock and surprise. Shiro had lashed out without hesitation, burning the strange man to a crisp. Or so he thought.

The flames flickering around Ozymandias quickly dissipated, and the older man stood in front of them, regarding them with an unhealthy interest. "I should have seen it before. My prophesy was correct. You four are the Horsemen, foretold many, many moons ago. The time has come for Apocalypse to awaken and begin his reign once again."

Warren felt a pit form in his stomach. He suddenly felt as if they had made a terrible mistake by coming here. They couldn't do this by themselves, not this far underground. They had to get help or at least get back to the site. They had to contain whatever his Apocalypse was before it escaped. "We've got to get out of here," he quickly interjected, leaving no room for argument.

But before they could move an inch, the stone top to the casket flew off and landed with a clatter several feet away. A hand appeared over the side and a hulking body followed behind. Now fully standing, the one Warren assumed was Apocalypse loomed over them, at least eight feet tall. Covered with various shades of cerulean armor, the gray-faced, blue-lipped giant stood and crossed his arms, studying each of them with pupil-less eyes.

"My lord," Ozymandias reverently whispered as he fell to one knee.

"It is time, isn't it, Ozymandias?"

"Just as I prophesized, my lord. And your four horsemen have arrived to serve you."

Apocalypse's unnaturally wide mouth erupted into a hideous smile. "Four mutants, worthy of serving me, have offered themselves to become my new horsemen?" Without waiting for an answer, he then said, "Then I shall grant you your desire."

Warren opened his mouth to protest, but the air was knocked out of him as he was thrown by an unseen force into a pod that he only now noticed. While he flailed through the air, he noticed the other three suffering the same fate. Then he landed inside and the pod sealed shut.

Warren's blood was racing and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. All he could think about was trying to contact the others. He knew that they had stumbled into something way over their heads, but there was no way that he would be able to warn the X-Men.

Warren then heard muffled protests of alarm coming from the other pods, which meant that everyone else was okay. He pushed on the glass window, eventually pounding furiously, in an attempt to escape. Though he knew that they were far past the point where they could possibly get away.

Apocalypse leaned toward Warren, as he beat on the inside of the glass. "Soon, my archangel, we shall weed the weak from the strong and lord over all creation."

That was the last thing Warren heard before a shroud of darkness covered him. And then the screams began.

Notes:

This story takes place several months after X3

Shiro Yoshida (Sunfire), Lorna Dane (Polaris), and Warren Worthington III (Angel) have all served as Apocalypse's Horsemen at one time or another in the comics

Hector Caliban is a character created for this story, but he will be based off of Caliban, one of Apocalypse's Horsemen.


	2. Chapter 2

I.

The bright sun slowly melted behind the horizon, slowly paving the way for the veil of darkness to settle in.

Ororo Munroe silently watched this daily ritual of nature from the wide window of her second story office, somehow soothed by the thought of something constant and inevitable. The sun responded to its audience as it seemed to slow its descent just for her enjoyment. Bright yellows, oranges, and reds bathed the forest beyond the school in its light, creating new and unfamiliar shadows, which Ororo somehow related to the challenges and losses that not only she had faced as headmistress of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, but as a member of the X-Men.

The first form of a threat to the school came in the form of Senator Robert Kelly, who used the Mutant Registration Act as a platform to launch himself into higher politics. The naïve population absorbed his every word, taking it as gospel, supporting the document, which, if passed, would basically expose mutants across the nation. This would in turn, put them in danger of discrimination and violence from those that would rather fear and hate mutants than understand them.

Dr. Jean Grey made sure she had a voice in the process, endorsing the privacy of mutants and opposing the intrusive, segregating act. Even though the board members were swayed more by Senator Kelly's words, she kept pressing the issue, preventing the Act from being passed. However, Charles Xavier's worst fear came to life in the most unexpected form. His old friend, Erik Lensherr, calling himself Magneto, took matters into his own hands with the intention of dominating the human race.

Charles was prepared for the attack, bringing together his students, who were mutants themselves. They were the X-Men, mutants dedicated to mutant-human coexistence, the soldiers meant to champion Xavier's ultimate dream.

The incident was abated, and actually brought two new students to his school, the violent and enigmatic Wolverine, and the young, inhibited Rogue.

Not long thereafter, a new threat arose, in the form of an old military veteran with a grudge against Xavier, endangering not only Charles and his students, but the entire mutant population. William Stryker made it his personal duty to destroy not only the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, but mutants as a whole, including his own debilitated son.

The X-Men once again were needed. They were joined by Nightcrawler, a mutant with the heart of an angel, but the appearance of a demon. Due to the circumstances, Bobby Drake and John Allerdyne, previously students of the school, joined the ranks of the X-Men in the struggle. Unlikely allies came in the form of Magneto and Mystique, who used their respective skills to aid the X-Men.

They were able to defeat William Stryker and stop the double-crossing of Magneto, but lost two of their own in the struggle. John elected to join Magneto's cause, leaving his teammates behind. Jean Grey, the heart of the team, sacrificed herself to save her teammates and the love of her life, Scott Summers.

The memory of Jean's death burned brightly in Ororo's mind, inspired by the light of the sun. Jean had died not once, but twice. After happening upon an unconscious Jean, Ororo and Logan took her back to the mansion, only to learn what Charles had known all the time. Jean's powers had taken on a new and dangerous form, filled by emotion and destruction. Paired with Magneto's uprising against Worthington Labs for creating a "cure" for mutant abnormalities, the X-Men found their hands full.

The death of Scott Summers and Charles Xavier was just the beginning. Countless military, civilians, mutants, and innocent bystanders were victims of circumstance, killed as the result of the ongoing war Magneto launched. The final death that concluded the horror was that of Jean Grey. Logan, while admitting his love for Jean, had no choice but to kill her to save the world.

Ororo continued to watch the setting sun, the light slowly giving way to darker hues. She wondered if Xavier's dream was like the sun, slowly disappearing as time progressed. And what would it take to keep that light shining? Would there be more causalities? More sacrifices? Ororo wasn't sure that she could handle anymore death. Not here. Not any of her students. Not any of her teammates. Not any of her family.

Still, there was something that bothered Ororo about their deaths. Though she hadn't voiced it to anyone, she truly couldn't accept the fact that they were dead. From Xavier's strange behavior right before his death, to the fact that they never found Scott's body, to the fact that some of the psi-sensitive students had been complaining of hearing a woman's voice whispering, Ororo felt that things weren't as cut and dry as they seemed. She had come to learn and accept that nothing in this life is certain, not even death.

She heard her office door open and close behind her. Shifting the air currents, Ororo caught a whiff of the familiar cigar Logan seemed to constantly have hanging out of his mouth. She knew he had come to check on her. Logan seemed to always be more worried about her these days. She didn't mind it, but Ororo was too proud to appear weak and frail in front of anyone, no matter how close they were.

"I'm fine, Logan," she preemptively answered. Ororo kept her sky blue eyes locked on the vanishing rays of sunlight, disappearing behind a line of forest.

Logan took another puff of his cigar as he spun a chair around and sat with the back against his chest. He stared at the back of the woman he had met only a short time ago, but had now come to fully respect not only as a fellow mutant but a fighter as well. And now, she was running the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, responsible for the molding and safety of future generations of mutants. Though it was a great weight, Ororo steadied herself and carried it, so far without falter. But for how long?

Ororo turned from the window and eyed Logan. "You're not going to say anything?"

Logan shrugged. "Wanna grab dinner?"

Ororo smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah, I think I need to get out of the office."

"You need dinner and a beer. And I know the perfect place." Logan stood and started out of the office, side by side with Ororo.

"Another one of your holes in the wall?"

Logan grinned, somehow keeping the cigar still in place. "You'll thank me later."

"When I have an upset stomach?"

"No, when you finally relax."

Logan watched Ororo carefully out of the corner of his eye. Though not a hunter anymore, he naturally observed and carefully picked apart people. People's body language constantly gave away their true intentions, motives, and thoughts. Logan knew Ororo was stressed, but she hid it well. She walked proudly beside Logan with the stride of a goddess. Her head was high, her shoulders forward, and her posture erect. Just from looking at her, Logan expected rose petals to be showered on the ground that she walked on. Yet, Logan could feel the slight change in the air as Ororo caught his last comment.

She simply deflected the conversation as she normally did when confronted about her feelings. "How were the students today?"

Logan caught the abrupt subject change, but didn't press the issue any further. "They're snot-nosed brats. And they're not ready for the big leagues."

Ororo sighed. Though she would have found a much better way of framing the comment, Ororo couldn't exactly disagree. Making the decision along with Hank, Logan, Kurt, Emma Frost, and Sean Cassidy, Ororo vamped up the training course for the students. Her motivation was to prepare them. But for what? She really didn't know anymore. Ororo couldn't bear to send them out and have one of them get hurt or killed. Yet, things were getting more and more violent. And it was only a matter of time before the violence greeted them on their doorstep. Since the attack on Worthington Labs, several anti-mutant groups had formed. One in particular, the Friends of Humanity, was the most outspoken of the factions. Their leader, Graydon Creed, constantly bombarded the media with interviews, encouraging citizens to join the fight, to take back the world that mutants were threatening to steal. As if that wasn't bad enough, hate crimes had been committed. No one could pin them on the Friends of Humanity, but they couldn't be let off the hook either. And Graydon managed to slant his words in such a way to elude that his group was indeed responsible and would continue as long as the "mutant menace" existed.

Now, more than ever, was it important to ensure the students at Xavier's were prepared. But Ororo knew she wasn't. She wasn't prepared for defeat, for the shattering of Xavier's dream, or for death. She could barely handle the three that had been thrown at her.

She couldn't hold back anymore, so her next question just find of spilled out of her, almost catching her off guard. "Logan, do you think we're doing the right thing? We've lost so much. And sometimes, I think we may be putting them in harm's way."

She expected Logan to show some kind of surprise, but instead, he took another puff of his cigar. "They're better off here than out there, darlin."

"I'm sure Jean and Scott thought the same thing," Ororo tersely replied.

Logan tensed his jaw but said nothing.

"I—I am sorry, Logan. I didn't mean that. It is just...I—I don't know. I want to do right by these kids. We are responsible for them. We have to make sure that they do not become the next Magneto. But sometimes, I wonder if we are on the right path." She took a deep breath, then let the rest flow like a gushing waterfall. "Logan," she stopped walking and made direct eye contact with him. "I do not think I could bear to lose anyone else. Jean was like a sister to me. Professor Xavier, like a second father. And Scott was the brooding older brother to all of us. But they are gone."

Logan knew that it was his cue to conjure up some kind of comforting cliché or clever way of making her feel better, but that wasn't one of his powers. "I know," he roughly replied. Logan took his cigar out of his mouth and said, "The world is changin' and it ain't getting' any better. No one said it would be easy."

"No one said it would be this hard."

Logan smirked. "The Storm I know stares danger in the eye then zaps the hell out of it."

Ororo surprised herself by smiling, something she hadn't done in a while. "Maybe I am just having a moment."

"We're all entitled."

Ororo took a deep breath. "So, I thought we were grabbing some dinner?"

Logan stuck the Cuban back in his teeth and gave a half-smile. "It'll be great going down, I promise. If it comes back up, that's a whole other issue."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said as they continued to walk down the hall.

Though Logan hadn't said anything profound or really all that comforting, Ororo felt slightly better just letting some things off her chest. And she could appreciate Logan's response and concern. But deep down, Ororo still felt unsure about the daunting task in front of her. But as she walked with Logan, she remembered that she wasn't alone. And in the end, that would be the one thing that separated them from their enemies.

II.

Bobby Drake stared at the ceiling, exhausted from the training session. Logan had most of the newer members, to include Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty, fighting Sentinels, the Brotherhood, and the Morlocks, all while dodging terrain perils and collapsing buildings for about three hours. And right now, Bobby could feel every single muscle in his body. Not to mention a slight headache from concentrating so hard on using his powers.

He, Kitty, and Rogue had noticed a change in the intensity of the Danger Room sessions since the deaths of Professor Xavier, Dr. Grey, and Mr. Summers. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing—Bobby had learned more about his powers in this short time than he had before, but still, they were getting burnt out. He wondered if Logan realized it. Or if he even cared.

A light rapping on the door snapped Bobby out of his fatigued haze. Bobby looked toward the door, but before he could respond, Kitty phased through the door. "What's up?" he greeted. He still thought it was cool that Kitty could just walk through anything she wanted.

Kitty sighed and sank down in his desk chair. "I hate being stuck with the newbies. Why can't we train with Ororo and Logan?"

Bobby couldn't help but to smile. Even when she was upset, Kitty Pride was still attractive. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, with strands falling about her fair face. Light brown eyes burned with quiet agitation as she stared at Bobby, waiting for an answer.

"It wasn't so bad," he weakly replied. He knew that answer would send Kitty on a tirade. And it did.

"Wasn't so bad?" Kitty repeated, her voice tinged with appalled anger. "Logan treated us as if we weren't at Worthington Labs fighting along side them against Magneto and those Morlocks. Besides that, I think I handled myself pretty damn well against Juggernaut, and I saved Jimmy. I would think that would count for something, but apparently, Logan thinks different."

Bobby sat up, ignoring the screaming pain from his muscles and joints. "Come on, Kit-Kat," he replied, purposefully using the nickname he stuck on Kitty when he first met her. Though she hated the name, Bobby used it purposefully to get a rise out of her. Most of the time, she would crack a smile then throw something his direction.

Kitty only glared at him. "We're not X-Babies. We're X-Men. And I'm going to tell Logan just that tomorrow."

"Really?" he smirked.

"Yes, really. I'm not going to sit around and be treated like a kid."

"You're fifteen."

"What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? I think I'm pretty mature for my age. Don't you?"

"Times like this make me wonder."

"Are you saying I'm being immature? Like you're the one to talk. You're only a year older than me. Don't act like you're such an adult."

Bobby shook his head, denying her accusation. "I just think you're taking this way too seriously. I don't think Logan and Ororo meant anything by it. We've got to learn to work together with the new guys anyways. Especially if they decide that they want to join the team. What did Peter think?"

Kitty sat back in the chair, a scowl settling on her face. "Like I talk to Peter."

"It's been a long time since you guys broke up, hasn't it? Maybe you should—"

"Maybe we should stick to the Danger Room conversation," Kitty snapped.

Bobby held his hands up as if warding off her words. "My bad. Anyways, I'll go with you and we'll talk to them tomorrow, okay?"

"You're going to go with me? I figured you didn't want to hang around a kid like me. And you seem okay with being treated like you got here yesterday."

Bobby laid back and placed his hands behind his head, giving Kitty a friendly, but borderline seductive look. "We're friends. And when you need me, I'll be there."

Kitty sat forward and smiled for the first time that evening. It seemed like Bobby always knew the right things to say to ease Kitty's mind. She thought about leaning forward and giving him a kiss, but knowing the way these things go, Rogue would walk right in on them and there would be a situation that she wasn't ready to deal with.

She simply replied, "Thanks, Bobby. I really mean it."

"Now, cool off and get some sleep," he smiled in return.

Kitty stood and walked toward the door. She gave Bobby one last look, mouthed goodnight, and phased back through the door.

Bobby exhaled loudly, feeling his heart rate returning to normal. Though she was quick to get upset, way smarter than he was, and a feisty fireball, Bobby knew that he had a crush on her. Before he met Kitty, he was sure that he didn't like girls like that, which is why he was attracted to Rogue. But now, Bobby felt an attraction between them that was growing stronger everyday. But he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Bobby was torn. He still had feelings for Rogue. Strong feelings. But then there was Kitty. He didn't want to make a choice between the two, but if he could just have one night with Kitty, he was sure his curiosity would be satiated.

Though he was dead tired, Bobby knew that his thoughts between Kitty and Rogue would impede any sleep tonight. Bobby sighed and one again stared at the ceiling, visions of both Kitty and Rogue prancing about.

III.

Remy LeBeau had spent most of his life as a member of the New Orleans Thieves Guild. His days were spent training in fighting, stealth, and escape tactics. Then as night fell, he put those skills to practical use, performing random jobs for whoever paid the most. And Remy couldn't have been happier. Until he found out he was a mutant.

Gifted with the odd ability to change an objects potential energy to kinetic energy, which makes the object unstable and explosive, Remy found himself losing control of that ability. After seeing an excerpt on the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, he decided that was the best place for him. Leaving in the middle of the night, Remy hitched rides all the way to New York, with nothing more than a few clothes and a wad of money.

He met some interesting people on the way, but in the end, Remy found himself at the doorstep of the Xavier's asking for help. The first person he met and was taken with was Ororo Munroe, apparently the headmistress of the school. But Remy could immediately tell that she was out of her element. Her fair cocoa skin, sky blue eyes, and white hair were an amazing combination, and Remy found himself letting his looks linger longer and longer. She was exotic, and obviously not from America. She had a slight accent and a way of speaking that made Remy's heart race.

She showed him to his room in the east wing of the mansion, and told him to meet her downstairs the following morning. Ororo pointed to the closet and told him that there was a set of clothes to wear for tomorrow morning's workout. She flashed a friendly smile and told him to get some rest tonight, he would need it. And Remy found that she was right.

The next morning, he found himself decked out in the standard training uniform, which was gold and indigo, and among similarly dressed people who stared intently at the man standing in front of them. Only two of them were dressed differently, the ones named Pryde and Rasputin, who seemed to have attained their own individualized uniform. If this was the workout uniform, he would have to get with them to see about a drastic change for his outfit.

Remy decided to hang back, surveying both the instructor and the other student. Remy could already tell that the teacher, who introduced himself as Logan, thought he was trouble. And Remy couldn't agree with him more. As he toyed with a deck of cards, Remy only nodded as Logan called his name. Then suddenly, everything went wild.

The entire room became a battle zone, and Logan was shouting orders. And nothing had slowed down since.

Remy now sat, months later, gazing out of the window, which overlooked the front lawn and large fountain. A cool night breeze ruffled his untamed dark brown hair, and Remy took in the crisp air, and let it out slowly. There were many things that he had to think about, but the night air seemed to let him forget about it, at least for a moment.

But the moment passed, and Remy found himself thinking of the strange man he met years ago and the questionable deeds he performed for him. He glanced at the night sky, hoping that the stars would somehow guide his path and show him the way to go. But there was no divine intervention on this night, so Remy decided to do what he had always done—do what was best for him.

For now, he would wait until the time was right to make his move.

Notes:

Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy, mentioned by Ororo, are two other instructors that teach the teenage students, which will be told in a later chapter. Fans of the comic should recognize them as the White Queen and Banshee, who both have been villains and X-Men, and at one time, they trained Generation X, a younger team of X-Men.

Steely Phil Gordon: My first review! Thanks for the praise. And hopefully, this chapter answered your question.


	3. Chapter 3

I.

This was the challenge Moira had been pining for since she first stepped into the realm of genetic research and added the title _doctor_ to her name. But facing such a challenge was a double-edged sword. The conquest would be a monumental breakthrough in the realm of what scientists and medical professionals thought possible. But failure meant not only a regression for research, but the loss of a close friend, Professor Charles Xavier.

In his last fleeting moments facing Jean Grey, Charles thought of the research patient at the facility. In a last ditch attempt for self-preservation when his body was destroyed at a molecular level, Xavier projected his mind out and into John Doe. And it worked. Charles awoke in a foreign body, and his conscious had persevered.

The next several months were intense. Moira worked with renowned genetic researchers and doctors from different countries to create a clone of Xavier's old body with a DNA sample Charles insisted she maintain at the facility. They successfully created a clone, which Moira found to be the easy part of this whole process. At Xavier's insistence, Moira and the researchers then sought to age the clone from a baby to fifty-six years old, his age at the time of his demise. Using a revolutionary piece of equipment, assembled and powered by the most unlikely person of all, Erik Lensherr, otherwise known as Magneto, they were able to complete the age progression in a matter of months.

Erik was surprised at Moira's request to help him, but Moira knew that Erik was one of the few people that both she and Xavier could trust. Though they had a difference of opinion on mutant affairs, both Charles and Erik agreed that they implicitly trusted each other. Erik also felt guilty for not being able to do anything but watch as his old friend was destroyed in front of his eyes.

Though at the time Erik had lost his powers, Moira was fully aware that the cure was only temporary. She had done extensive testing on a sample and found that it didn't remove mutant genes, only attempted to repair them, which it did for a limited time. However, the effect could and would wear off, but the exact duration of time would depend on several external and internal factors.

Erik was one of the first. Moira attributed it to his age and the amount of time his mutation had been present. Knowing this, Moira recruited Erik and sought to restore Charles back to his old self.

Now they were at the final stages of the process. Moira prepped both John Doe and Xavier's body for Charles to project his consciousness back into his own body. But to do that, there had to be the threat of death. Moira intended to induce death in John Doe, creating a dire circumstance, which would hopefully duplicate the process.

"This is a risky procedure, Charles. Y'know, we've never done such a thing," Moira warned. She could feel her nerves already on edge as her patient, John Doe lie on the table. The body of Charles Xavier lie next to John Doe, peaceful and still, an incomplete shell of Charles, missing life. But John Doe, who months ago lie comatose at the Muir Island Research Facility, now teemed with thought and movement, thanks to Charles.

"I know, but I trust you, Moira." The voice belonged to Charles Xavier, though the mouth and attached body did not.

"And you don't trust an old friend, Charles?" Erik asked feigning offense.

A slight chuckle escaped. "Yes, I trust you. But I also know what you are capable of."

"I never meant for things to turn out the way they did. But you're so damn idealistic, and it's going to be your undoing. You don't know what those humans are capable of."

"I'm capable of saving an old friend's life," Moira sharply interjected. It was easy for Erik to forget that not everyone around him were blessed or cursed with the extraordinary trait of being a mutant.

"My apologies, my dear," Erik shook his head and sighed, leaving the argument alone for now. It really wasn't the time or the place. Silently, Erik prayed that this procedure worked so there could be a debate later.

Moira sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She understood the procedures and had gone over them thousands of times, but now, being faced with a real situation, Moira suddenly felt that she was ill-prepared to take on such a daunting process. She could have handled brain surgery, a heart transplant, or reattaching a limb. But cloning, advanced aging, and conscious transference seemed just a bit out of her realm.

"You're the only one I would trust to do this, Moira," Charles quietly said.

"Ach, are y'reading my mind?"

Charles let a slight chuckle escape. "I don't have to."

Moira shook her head. She always tended to forget how perceptive Charles was, even without psychic abilities. He could always tell what was racing through her mind, and always said what she needed to hear, whether she liked it or not.

Taking a deep breath, Moira rapidly pecked out commands on the keyboard, flipped a number of switches, then returned back to typing. She pulled a pen out of her lab coat and scribbled down something she was reading from the screen. Settling her pen down, she spun in her chair to face Charles.

"Is everything ready?" Erik asked.

Moira nodded but didn't break eye contact with Charles. Though she now saw dark green eyes instead of piercing brown eyes, she could feel Charles behind those eyes. She thought that maybe she was imagining it until he winked at her.

_It will be alright_, Charles mentally said to her. Moira felt a sense of tranquility and focus pass over her. Then she knew it was time.

Moira's eyes burned with determination as she met Erik's gaze. "Let's bring Charles back."

Erik smiled. "That's what I wanted to hear. Do come back to us, Charles," Erik said before turning away and joining Moira at the computer console. They locked eyes, knowing that despite their personal beliefs, they both agreed on one thing: Charles had to live. Erik gave her a slight nod, signaling her to go ahead.

Moira took a breath then flipped the switch that would either bring Charles back to them or cast him into eternal darkness. For now, all they could do was wait to see the results.

II.

They were in a war zone. Again.

Collapsed buildings, remnants of vehicles, and cratered streets could be seen for miles. There was no telling what anything was before, but it was apparent that the destruction left no survivors behind. Even now, explosions, gunfire, and laser shots continued to tear the town apart, mowing down and toppling anything standing more than two feet off the ground. Pieces of concrete and metal littered the streets and what was left of the sidewalks.

Though it was a horrifying and depressing scene, usually viewed only in history books or museums, the team of mutants that hustled through the real-life war zone wasn't the least bit surprised or disturbed by their surroundings. Moving surreptitiously, they used the debris and dark shadows created by collapsed buildings to their advantage.

They were the X-Men. And they had a mission.

Bobby Drake snapped his hand behind him, giving his team the signal to immediately halt movement and to lower themselves to the ground. He took cover behind a large piece of a building that had fallen minutes ago from a larger-than-life explosion. He glanced back, making sure his team had followed his direction.

Kitty Pryde, Julian Keller, Remy LeBeau, and Noriko Ashida. Shadowcat, Hellion, Gambit, and Surge. His teammates were awaiting his next command, anticipating any surprises from their enemies.

The other team, led by Danielle Moonstar, codenamed Mirage, consisted of Peter Rasputin, Anna Marie Raven, Tessa Smith, Sam Guthrie. Colossus, Rogue, Sage, and Cannonball.

He then pressed a small button in the collar of his black leather uniform.

"Gold Strike Force Leader, this is Blue Strike Force Leader. Do you read me?"

There was only a moment of silence before the familiar voice of Dani replied. "I'm here. What is your location?"

Pulling out a sleek black device, Bobby pushed a few buttons which brought up a three-dimensional view of the city. A subdued, flashing red beacon indicated his location, while a dark green light indicated the rendezvous point. According to the readout, they were about fifty meters from their intended meeting point, which Bobby relayed to Dani.

"We're east of you guys. How does it look over there?"

"Not good. I'm showing an army of Sentinels clustered near the center of the town. We're going to approach from the north and—" Bobby stopped abruptly. At first, he thought he had imagined a low rumble coming from deep within the ground. But that low rumble quickly escalated into a tremor then into a quake. And now, Bobby was thrown off his feet by a tremulous uproar.

Something huge shot out of the ground, straight into the air. Then it landed with a heavy thud, metal clashing against concrete. The Sentinel looked down upon the mutants before it, quickly analyzing each one of their powers, strengths, and weaknesses. Finishing its scan, it held its ground, quickly calculating its next move.

"Surrender, mutants," the Sentinel ordered.

No matter how many times Bobby had seen it, every time felt like the first. He was immediately awed by the sheer size of the robot, probably towering as high as a five-story building. Though it moved stiffly and slowly, it had a strong defense and wasn't easily taken down. He always figured that it was something like a remote controlled robot, being given its orders from afar, which is why he underestimated the ability of the Sentinel to surprise them.

"When did they start burrowing under the ground?" Kitty asked.

"Surrender or be captured by force," the Sentinel ordered in a monotone, yet strong voice.

"Yeah, whatever," Bobby said as he lowered his body temperature and the air around him, changing himself to be completely ice. "Gambit, Surge, take out the legs. Shadowcat, fall back and wait for the core unit to be exposed. Surge, keep the visual sensors overloaded," Bobby quickly commanded.

Bobby had been waiting for this moment since they first barged into the city. And now, he had the chance to see if his plan would work and if he had what it took to be a leader.

His team responded quickly and decisively. Surge postured herself low and let bolts of electricity rip from her hands, creating massive flashes of brilliant light, effectively blinding the Sentinel. Bobby created an ice slide and whisked around the perimeter of the Sentinel, coating its knees and other joints in thick layers of ice. Gambit let kinetically charged cards fly from his hands right into the lower portion of the Sentinel's legs, while Hellion used his telekinesis to pelt the Sentinels legs and body with the debris lying around.

"Targeted mutants hostile. Require assistance," the Sentinel called as it toppled forward.

"Shadowcat, now!" Bobby yelled.

Shadowcat dashed forward, changing her body from a solid state to a ghost-like, intangible existence. She leaped right through the Sentinel's head, disrupting its core processor. A strange, high-pitched sound emanated from the Sentinel's voice speaker then the amber glow in its eyes faded as Shadowcat emerged from the ground several feet away.

But before they could enjoy their victory, three more Sentinels emerged from the hazy distance, advancing on them. Bobby chanced a glance back at his teammates and noticed Nori holding her stomach and hunched over on her knees.

"Nori! What's wrong?" Bobby created another ice slide and closed the distance between them rapidly. Kitty ran up to her side as well. Julian and Remy kept their eyes locked on the three Sentinels slowly and deliberately approaching them.

Nori felt like she was going to explode. She swore that electricity was tearing through her insides. She had lost the strength to stand only moments ago and her will to live was slipping away second by second. Nori clenched her eyes closed and tried to breathe, but her body refused to do anything but try to repel the energy that continued to build up within her.

"What's happening?" Kitty desperately looked from Nori to Bobby.

Bobby shook his head as he reverted back to his normal form. He tried to reach out to Nori, but a streak of electricity caught his hand. He and Kitty both backed up as electricity streamed off her and snaked out in all directions, intensifying as the seconds ticked by.

"Storm, come in!" Bobby called into his radio. But the electricity was causing some kind of interference. The only reply was sharp static. Bobby looked toward the sky. "End program."

The background wavered for a moment, lines of interference appearing in everything around them, but the familiar metal floor and walls of the Danger Room didn't appear. And the Sentinels closed in on them.

Kitty desperately looked to Bobby for answers, but his expression told her that he was out of ideas.

"I can't hold it in!" Nori screamed as her body stiffened. Massive bolts of electricity flowed from her body in all directions, piercing everything in its path.

Kitty reacted instinctively, realizing the immediate danger she and Bobby were in. She grabbed bobby's gloved hand and turned intangible in the next split second. She didn't have time to warn him, but she knew that he would be more grateful that he wasn't fried to a crisp. She glanced toward Julian and Remy, hoping that they had noticed the danger as well. She was relieved to see both of them suspended in the air, held aloft by Julian's telekinesis.

As quickly as Nori's outburst had begun, it was over and she fell to the ground, weak and shaken, but for the most part okay. "My head," Nori complained as she staggered to her feet.

Kitty and Bobby were solid again and by Nori's side, supporting her. "We're going to get you to the med bay," Kitty assured her.

"End program," Bobby called again. There was no response. "What the hell is wrong with the Danger Room?"

"Located target. Annihilate mutants."

They looked at each other, neither one of them liking the sound of it. The Sentinel's voice no longer had the monotone drone of a lifeless robot, but of a determined instrument of destruction. And it had found its intended targets.

"Bobby, that's not in the program," Kitty said. "Something must've happened with Nori's surge."

"Remy! Julian! Regroup!"

Julian flew toward them, a well-targeted laser shot barely missing him. He telekinetically grabbed Kitty, Nori, and Bobby, and sailed through the streets, taking sharp turns and using the debris as cover as more laser shots rained down on them. He did his best to split his concentration between holding everyone up and repelling laser shots, but when he was hit in his lower back, he realized that he wasn't doing a good job.

They all tumbled from about seven feet in the air, slight cries and gasps escaping them as they rolled to a hard stop on the broken street.

"Are you okay?" Bobby said to Julian as he clambered to his feet.

Julian coughed and despite getting up slowly, he replied, "I'm fine. Did we lose those robots?"

They all stood up, listening intently for any type of sound that might indicate that their pursuers had found them. It suddenly seemed too quiet. The overheard blasts had stopped and there was no more gunfire.

"Gambit don't like this," Remy said as his red eyes scanned the darkened alleyways that could easily hide a Sentinel. He knew that they hadn't lost the Sentinels. They knew how to hunt, and they were right where the Sentinels wanted them.

An explosion from the center of them threw them off their feet in various directions. Out of a dark alleyway, glowing amber eyes suddenly appeared, then the Sentinel stepped into the hazy light.

"Annihilate mutants," the Sentinel declared as it held out its palm and a laser slowly drew power in.

Bobby knew that the next shot would be the end of them.

III.

When Rogue regained consciousness, she felt as if she had been flattened by an eighteen-wheeler. Her whole body ached, but she felt the most pressure on her chest, hips, and legs. Opening her eyes, Rogue saw the cause of her pain and gasped. She was trapped beneath the remnants of a collapsed building, the heavy concrete and metal pinning her to the ground.

She could barely move, which scared her even more. But she didn't feel anything stabbing into her body and though she couldn't be entirely sure, nothing felt broken. Rogue was simply stuck. And helpless.

When the surge of electricity hit Rogue was knocked off her feet, as were most of her teammates. She could remember thinking that something was horribly wrong, and the incident wasn't a part of the program. As she opened her eyes, Rogue sucked in a breath as Sentinels came into focus. They had somehow sneaked up on them in their moment of vulnerability and now they were as good as caught.

The Sentinel then said something that made Rogue's blood run cold.

_Annihilate mutants._

It had been so certain and matter-of-fact, that Rogue wasn't sure that she had heard right. That definitely wasn't in the program. She had been in the Danger Room on several occasions with the Sentinels and though they had a varied amount of lines, annihilate mutants wasn't one of them. In fact, she sat down with Hank as he programmed the lines into the Danger Room session. Now, she was positive something was horrible wrong.

Before she could scan for her teammates, there were several high-impact explosions. Then everything was dark.

Now, grateful for the light, Rogue realized she was a sitting duck. If anyone else were in the same predicament, they would be able to blow up the debris or simply throw it off of them with god-like strength. But aside from her ability to absorb powers through touch, Rogue was just like any other sixteen year old. Physically anyways.

Rogue held back a cough and tried to wiggle again, but the pain stopped her. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn't know what had happened, but Rogue knew that all of them were in mortal danger. And she was going to be the first casualty.

"Are you okay?" a voice sounded from a dark recess behind a piece of a wall.

"Sage?" Rogue excitedly called. Though the woman was usually cold towards her, Rogue was glad someone was there. And that Sage was alive.

Sage slipped from the shadows and stayed low as she dashed to Rogue's side. Sage moved stealthily and smoothly towards her, making Rogue think that she had done this many times.

"I can barely move," Rogue said as she struggled against the debris and pain, but she quickly gave up.

"Then don't."

Normally, Rogue would have quibbled with Sage on her less-than-hospitable bedside manner, but now wasn't quite the time. Rogue stirred slightly then asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Sage shook her head, signaling that she didn't know, but her face remained neutral. She kneeled next to Rogue and scanned the scene for any sign of Sentinels. None.

Sage then surveyed Rogue. She was a little banged up and had smudges of dirt on her face, but didn't seem to be in any sort of mortal danger, which was good at this point. The last thing Sage wanted was a dying X-Man on her hands. Especially a young one like Rogue.

Though she kept her opinions to herself, Sage didn't care to work with teenagers. She was surprised that Logan and Ororo actually trusted them with such a daunting responsibility. Teenagers didn't know the first thing about danger or responsibility. And they certainly couldn't take care of themselves. Rogue being the case in point.

"We were all separated in the explosions," Sage finally replied. She tried to call for Angel through her own collar radio, but sharp static blasted back at her. "Dammit," she cursed. She pulled out a sleek black device, and punched in a few codes.

"What happened? Why hasn't anyone ended the program?"

Sage read the readouts grimly. "Apparently, there was some sort of spike in energy. I think it may have been that girl Nori. There's a short somewhere in the system, so the program can't be ended. It looks as though it altered the basic programming also."

Rogue didn't like what Sage was implying. "So you're saying that the Danger Room is seriously dangerous?"

"What I'm saying," Sage replied, "Is that these holograms could very well kill us."

Notes:

MacePren: Thanks for the review. Let me know if you like this chapter.

Rising Goddess: Thanks for the PM. It let me know that folks are reading and enjoying the story. Hope this chapter lives up to the rest.


	4. Chapter 4

I.

Sean Cassidy's blue-green eyes followed each screen intently, watching the stealthy movements of figures clad in black leather. Though the shadows hid them well, Sean could spot out and name each figure by simply watching the way they moved.

Bobby Drake was obviously in the lead, his stiff movements betraying his trepidation about being appointed leader clearly showing through his uncharacteristically stiff movements. Kitty Pryde wasn't too far behind. She managed to keep her movements slight and light. Like her codename would suggest, Kitty seemed comfortable with sneaking about with the darkness as a shroud, her steps as fleeting as a feline's.

Though he tried hard to be stealthy, Julian moved heavily behind her. He was used to using his telekinesis to float about, but Bobby had made a smart call to have all the fliers stay grounded. There was no telling what devices would detect a flying intruder or a fluctuation of energy radiated by Julian's powerful ability.

Noriko Ashida followed closely behind, impressing Sean by staying low and keeping any extra maneuvers to a minimum. Sean thought she hadn't been paying attention in class, but watching her now made Sean beam with pride.

Remy LeBeau brought up the rear. He looked as though this were child's play for him. They didn't know too much about the newer students, but having walked on the other side of the law, Sean could spot a fellow criminal. Remy had dirty hands, and Sean just hoped that what ever was in his past wouldn't come back to haunt him or the rest of them.

On another screen, Dani Moonstar's team had already reached their destination. They were now lying in wait for the other team's call that they were in place. Though Sean had only been watching for the past few seconds, he knew that Bobby's team would be the one with the least amount of casualties. Heck, that was the team he trained—of course they would be the best.

"How are the lads faring so far?" Sean leaned over Ororo's shoulder to get a better view of the readings splayed across multiple monitors.

Ororo's sky blue eyes scanned the monitors then she gave Sean a smile. "It appears you have trained your team well, Sean." She spun the high-backed leather chair partially toward him. "You and Emma both have been a tremendous help to the school. After what happened to Charles—"

"Aye. No one expected such a thing. I've known Charles most o' m' life. I couldn't believe what happened. And then Scott and Jean...what a shame."

Ororo sighed heavily. Though she tried to push the devastating loss out of her mind, there was something everyday that reminded her that three of the foundations of the school were no more. The burden of spreading equality between mutants and humans was on her shoulders to carry. She was thankful that Logan, Sean, and Emma were there to share some of that load.

"Yes, it was a shame," Ororo whispered her agreement. Every time someone happened to mention their name, it was like she was reliving every grieving moment of their loss and Ororo couldn't stand it.

It wasn't like her to be overemotional. In fact, because of her ability to control weather patterns, Ororo had to keep strict control over her emotions. If she didn't, they would be reflected in the weather. Anger: thunderstorms. Melancholy: cloudy skies with slight rain. Depressed: fog. Agitation: high winds, dark clouds.

Any shift in mood could spell disaster. And Ororo would never allow that to happen.

The air suddenly seemed heavy, and Ororo could feel her mood turning dark, so she turned back to the screens, focusing on the students and their performance.

Ororo glanced at the higher screens then back at the lower screens. Several different cameras focused on the individual teams from different angles. There were also dynamic cameras that followed and monitored each individual. Those screens were right below the other row.

She scrutinized every action as she watched Bobby surreptitiously lead his team through a slew of shadows, staying close to the ground. Ororo made a mental note to commend Bobby on his decision for everyone not to use their respective powers for flight or any other means of transportation. Ororo saw him using the tactics he had learned from Scott during his Offensive Strategy and Tactical Methods class. She half-smiled. Though Scott was gone, his teachings kept him alive in her eyes.

And the same could be said for Charles Xavier as well.

"The students seem to be faring fine, considering the circumstances," Ororo commented. She kept her eyes glued to the screens, still assessing various techniques both teams were using and noting minor mistakes that she would address after the session was over.

"Tis good to hear. I know y' are reserved t' let them into battle."

She clenched her jaw but said nothing. Had Logan mentioned something to every damn person within earshot? Ororo couldn't imagine Logan actually being a gossip though, so she quickly pushed her ire aside for the time being. Instead, she replied, "I only want to be sure that they're ready. I'm sure that anyone in my position would feel the same way."

Ororo tried to keep the edge out of her voice, but as the seconds ticked by, it became harder. She grew weary of everyone acting as though she was being a mother hen, hovering over the students and keeping them sheltered from the cold, cruel world outside the coop.

Sean chuckled. "I dinnae mean anything by it," he replied, taking note of Ororo's expression, reflected in the lower screens. Moving on, Sean said, "I'm concerned about Nori Ashida though. Recently, she's began to show signs of uncontrollable surges of power. I spoke to Hank about it, and he said Forge is supposed to send some kind o' gauntlets to help her channel and harness that energy. She said she was fine, but I'm not so sure."

Ororo focused in on Nori on one of the upper screens. Her lithe figure and strong Japanese features

Though she wasn't using her power, Ororo could see slight static speckling the picture, courtesy of her power. Miniscule bolts of electricity snaked over her bare arms, but quickly dissipated, leaving behind a soft white glow.

"Maybe we should simply pull her out until Forge delivers the gauntlets."

"Come now, Storm. I dinnae want to be too hasty with the lass."

Ororo opened her mouth to argue, but quickly decided against it, thinking back to her conversation with Logan a few days ago. Maybe she was worrying too much, like he implied. Maybe it was just another moment. She seemed to be having a lot of those lately.

She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a shill alarm sounding from the console. She responded calmly but quickly, her eyes immediately scanning the constant report the Danger Room produced on the lower screens.

"What is it?" Sean asked, the desperation and concern evident.

Ororo didn't answer immediately. Instead, her head shot toward the upper screens, searching for a student in particular. Then, Ororo saw exactly what she hoped she wouldn't see. Nori was doubled over in pain then suddenly, electricity flowed out of her in every direction. Bolts of white hot lightning streaked across everything within reach, snaking out into the eternal recesses of the holographic terrain of the danger room.

Fighting back pangs of panic, Ororo immediately went for the emergency power down switch, but before she could flip it, electricity tore out of the computer and jumped across the entire console. Ororo barely moved away in time, avoiding a nasty shock coupled with second or third degree burns.

Though she wielded lightning herself, the electricity Nori commanded was fundamentally different though just as deadly. While Ororo could repel the charging effects of lightning, she couldn't do anything against Nori's electricity.

There were pops, fizzles, and other horribly wrong sounds as the electricity weaved its way through the entire console, affecting every possible button and switch. She could hear Sean in the background, but not even the shrill cry of the alarm could overpower the scream that tore from Nori.

Ororo tried to peck at the console, hoping to hit the right sequence of normal controls to at least turn off the program. But the electricity continued to dance about, lashing out at any flesh within six inches of the console.

"Look!" Sean pointed frantically at one of the screens. Sentinels faded into existence, courtesy of the Danger Room program. One became flanked by two, two by four, and four by eight.

"By the bright lady," Ororo whispered. A few Sentinels became a fleet of robots with one thing on their mind: capture mutants. She glanced down at the output for the automated adaptive responses. What before said to capture mutants, now read, terminate mutants. The teens were trapped with hulking metal hunters that would stop at nothing until their mission was accomplished.

"Get any X-Man on the premises. Now!" she directed. Ororo and Sean both bolted out of the control room, hoping that with each passing second, they weren't too late.

II.

Pain was the first feeling that registered. It coursed through his body, ebbed in his brain, and made his soul ache. But the pain told him he was alive.

The brilliant lights of the astral plane disintegrated into a bright light, hidden behind heavy eyelids. How he longed to explore the different hues scattered throughout a galaxy of thoughts and feelings. Yet, the overbearing sense of curiosity subsided, replaced by a desire to feel matter in the real world once again. Tearing himself from the astral plane, Charles Xavier opened his eyes slowly.

At first, sounds floated around him as if he were underwater. Slow, muffled blobs of noise began to focus into two distinct and familiar voices. Erik Lensherr and Moira MacTaggart. But what were they doing? Why were they in such an odd place?

Yes, now he remembered. The confrontation with Jean Grey. His final moments before he cast his consciousness halfway across the world into John Doe. His existence in a body not his own for several months as Erik and Moira made strides daily to return him to his body. And now, he was conscious, but was he in his own body?

Charles was aware of every intricate part of his body, and felt synapses fire off as he attempted to move his limbs. Each movement, no matter how slight was a rush of excitement and offered a new discovery every time. And with each movement, Charles felt more and more familiar with the body he was in.

"Charles? Do y' hear me?" Moira's face was etched with worry as she hovered over Charles, waiting for some kind of sign. The body was indeed the cloned form of Charles Xavier, but the question was whether his consciousness had fully entered this body. And she couldn't wait.

_Dammit, Charles, answer her!_ Erik was just as impatient, if not slightly more, than Moira. Though he and his old friend had differing opinions, he never wanted to see him murdered. And Jean Grey was the last person that he thought would be responsible for Xavier's death. But the situation couldn't have been avoided, and Erik had long since convinced himself that there was nothing he could do. Until Moira showed him that there was.

"Erik, you need not shout. I can hear you just fine," his voice was raspy and harsh, but it was his. And the voice came from the familiar visage of Charles Xavier.

Moira stood slowly as an expression of surprise, awe, and relief all mixed together took over her features. "It worked," she whispered. Moira turned to Magneto, smiling. "It worked!" she exclaimed.

"My dear, you are a genius," Erik's regal face sported a welcoming smile as Charles sat up and let his eyes adjust to the light. "Welcome back, old friend."

Finally adjusted to the light, he held his hands out in front of him. _His_ hands. He opened and closed his fists, feeling every muscle throughout his hands and arms react. His hands moved to his face and he ran his fingers across his bald head, his firm brow, his defined nose, and his proud chin.

"It's good to be back," Charles said as Moira draped her arms around him. Erik looked on and gave his friend a knowing nod, and that was enough for Charles to know that though they had conflicting beliefs, Erik was glad Charles was alive once again.

III.

As Charles Xavier awoke to find himself in a familiar body, halfway across the world Warren Worthington III struggled with the fact that the body he now found himself in was foreign and strange.

His head throbbed and there was no place on his body that didn't hurt. But as he gingerly moved his limbs, he felt cold that seemed to seep straight through to his bones, though he wasn't shivering. Warren brought his hand in front of his face, but it was too dark to see anything.

_What happened?_

Warren tried to work back through the events of the night. He met Lorna Dane and her partners, Shiro Yoshida and Hector Caliban, in Egypt after Hank McCoy detected an odd power fluctuation in the area. Warren volunteered to travel alone, assuring Ororo that there was nothing to worry about. After meeting and greeting, Lorna led her team, which now included Warren, into the excavation site. They ran into someone strange then...

The rest suddenly became a thick haze and Warren couldn't discern what had happened to Lorna and the others or why he was in such a small, dark encasement. Right now, nothing made sense and all Warren wanted to do was hurt someone.

Hurt someone?

Warren reeled at the thought that his first reaction was the desire to hurt someone. He had never been of a violent nature, and the desire to inflict pain on someone else was never even a consideration. Not even for a fraction of a second. Yet, it now seemed to be the first and most logical choice. After thinking about it more, it wasn't a choice. It was the only thing to do.

Before he realized it, the encasement opened with a hiss of air, and Warren tumbled out, hitting the dusty concrete floor unexpectedly. Weak and coughing, Warren couldn't seem to pull himself together, as if his entire body were a foreign entity that he was trying to control but failing horrendously.

Though he was preoccupied with the current situation, another part of Warren's mind tried to decipher what had transpired up to this point. A quick glance back at the encasement, only raised more questions. The encasement was actually a pod-looking device, which looked much too advanced to be housed in such an ancient tomb. And if it was a pod and he was trapped in it, it must have changed him somehow, which is why he couldn't quite control his movements.

Three other familiar hisses echoed through the chamber and Warren three distinct thumps, the sounds of other people hitting the concrete. Rising onto his hands and knees, still gasping for air, Warren managed to glance toward the others, who were dealing with their situation much like he was. All three wheezed and gasped for air, while flailing like helpless infants on the ground. Warren expected to see the familiar faces of Lorna, Shiro, and Hector, but instead, the trio was strangely unfamiliar, yet there was a hint of recognition.

The more Warren tried to remember—faces, names, past events—the more he forgot. And the pressing need to not just hurt someone, but to kill someone, grew into a hunger. The alarms going off in Warren's head dimmed then just simply stopped. As the rest of his mind became a hazy fog, Warren felt more at ease with the current situation and quickly regained control of his appendages.

"My Horsemen," an ancient, deep voice resounded through the chamber. Warren and the other three responded instantly to their collective name, somehow known to all of them. "I have chosen you to be the harbingers of the age of Apocalypse. The weak shall perish, as the strong rise to rule this world in my name."

Warren listened intently, envisioning the work ahead of them. Oh the glorious bloodshed. The screams for mercy. The cries of anguish. Warren found himself grinning in anticipation, his mouth watering for the taste of freshly spilled crimson, for he was Death, and that was all he needed to know.

IV.

When Scott Summers first opened his eyes, he expected to see the visage of Jean Grey looming over him. He expected to see her wonderful smile, her vibrant emerald eyes, her fiery red hair, fair skin, and to feel her soft touch on his cheek. Instead, Scott found himself naked, floating in a greenish ocean with a breathing apparatus attached to his nose and mouth. He stirred as bubbles floated upwards past his head then was hit with a coughing spell until he finally caught his breath.

_Jean._

Something terrible happened at the Alkali Lake. He went there to find Jean. She was calling him to the lake. She needed him. But there was something else there. But when he tried to remember, all Scott could see was a flash of white then nothing. A vast world of a pure, radiant glow, bathing him in a comforting warmth, shielding him from whatever terrible fate had befallen both him and Jean.

So many questions ran through his mind, but a throbbing headache kept him from focusing on anything but his present situation. He was floating in a cylindrical tank, and as he felt the dense glass sides, figured that he couldn't simply kick his way out. And somehow, his optic blasts were held back, despite his eyes being open.

A laboratory. Experiments. Imprisonment.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Scott Summers," a voice called out to him. Scott focused, peering through the liquid, and expected to spot a meek scientist, with a lab coat and thick glasses, frantically scribbling in a notebook, observing him with unhealthy interest. But instead, he saw a man that looked more like a hired muscle or a street thug. Rather largely built, muscular, goatee, dark shaggy hair, A-shirt, work boots, tattooed, shoulder holster with a gun.

Scott tried to reply, but found that the breathing apparatus made it impossible to talk.

He wanted to bombard the man with the multitude of questions running through his mind, and the thug seemed to know that.

"Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to ask me how you got here, what has happened over the past few months, and why you're not with your X-Men. Just to let you know, to everyone in the world, you're dead. So, relax. You're going to be here for a while."

Scott shook his head and glared at his captor. Though he tried with all his might, his optic blasts simply wouldn't respond.

"Oh and by the way, in case you were wondering, I'm Dr. Nathaniel Essex. One of many names I've taken through the years. But you can just call me Sinister."

Scott knew that somehow, he had ended up in the clutches of someone either in cahoots with Magneto or someone equally misguided and dangerous. But there was nothing he could do, but bide his time and wait to see what Sinister's next move would be.

Sinister smiled again but spoke not to Scott, but to someone else that Scott didn't immediately see. "Gracing me with your presence, Lord Apocalypse?"

From the shadows emerged a figure about eight feet tall, gray-skinned, and bald. His massive body was covered by some kind of strange, azure armor. His face was disfigured as well, his jawline and lips covered with blue, which was probably permanent. At first sight, Scott knew that whoever he was, this new character—Apocalypse—had something diabolical in store.

"I have returned, Sinister. What changes have transpired since I last roamed the earth? And what of this mutant in your possession?"

"This mutant," Sinister motioned to him, "is Scott Summers. Both he and his brother are Alpha-level mutants. He was involved with an Omega-level mutant, Jean Grey. After studying his genetic code and hers, I have determined that their offspring could have limited potential. This can be the foundation for the highest evolution of mutants."

Scott froze at the mention of his brother. How did Sinister know about Alex? Only two years younger than Scott, Alex and Scott were like night and day. Where Scott was responsible and stoic, Alex was outgoing and reckless. The only characteristic they shared was their mutant abilities to control energy.

While Scott harnessed his as optic blasts, Alex wielded devastating plasma energy blasts, often using the codename Havok. Though Alex had trained at the school several years before, he simply detested rules and structure and left the institution, cutting off contact with the Professor and Scott. But somehow, Sinister had found him. And chances were Alex was in the same boat as Scott.

Apocalypse scrutinized Scott for only a moment then turned his attention back toward Sinister. "And what of this Omega-level mutant? Is she in your possession as well?"

"My apologies. She isn't. Jean Grey has vanished. We've discovered fragments of her psionic signature, but they were weak and scattered. I haven't been able to pinpoint their origin. But I assure you, we are ever close to determining her whereabouts. I have discovered that this Omega-level mutant, just like my two Alpha-levels, has ties to a school, the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. My investigation has concluded there are two other Omega-level mutants residing there."

Scott clenched his jaw when he heard the school mentioned. In only a matter of minutes not only did his own life become endangered, but now, the entire school was in danger from an enemy that they didn't even know they had.

Then the mention of Jean. Sinister had said he couldn't pinpoint her exact location. A cold chill passed over Scott. Something had happened while he was imprisoned. Something terrible. And Scott wasn't sure that he was ready to face that.

Apocalypse took a few steps away from Sinister in contemplation. After a few moments, Apocalypse turned back and replied, "I shall leave the Horsemen at your disposal then, Sinister. Find these Omega-level mutants and rid me of the rest."

"It shall be my highest priority," Sinister bowed his head in reverent obedience. Accepting the gesture, Apocalypse turned, disappearing into the shadows as soundlessly as when he appeared.

"Pompous asshole," Sinister spat. Only seconds later, four figures emerged from the darkness. "Ah, his four puppets at my disposal. Apocalypse's Horsemen. Let's just see if you can live up to your reputation."

Scott tried to get a good look at the Horsemen, but the shadow and viscosity of the green liquid prevented him from getting a clear look at them.

Sinister quietly relayed his orders, including their first stop, to the Horsemen, and in a flash, they were gone on their hunt. Once they had departed, Sinister turned back to the tank. "So, the Age of Apocalypse is upon us," Sinister commented. "It will be better if your companions are given a swift death at the hands of the Horsemen than a life of servitude to Apocalypse. Trust me, I'll be doing them a favor to allow them to die at their hands."

Scott fervently shook his head again and placed his hands against the glass.

"Shhh, my prelate. Your servitude will lie with me. And nothing for you will be the same ever again."

Before Scott could give another nonverbal protest, a shock went through his system, tensing his muscles hard, rendering him unconscious.

"When you awaken, Cyclops," Sinister smiled, "you will be mine."

Notes:

MacePren: Thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate the praise and hope this next chapter is just as good as the last three.

Rising Goddess: I've been suffering from a little writer's block, but I finally cranked out a new chapter. I hope you like it.

Ratdogtwo: Glad you like the story so far. Let me know what you think of this chapter.

Rogue.Arcanis: And here's the next installment! Thanks for the review!


	5. Chapter 5

I.

James Howlett, known to most as Logan, and feared by the rest as the infamous Wolverine, once again stared over the cenotaphs from his second floor balcony. He had lost track of time as the morning sun loomed overhead then began to settle in the west. It had been several months since the untimely deaths of Charles Xavier, Scott Summers, and Jean Grey, but Logan remembered everything as if it had happened only yesterday.

He was the one that discovered Scott's ruby quartz glasses when they investigated Alkali Lake on orders from Professor Xavier. When he confronted a mysteriously resurrected Jean Grey, she admitted to killing him. After becoming possessed by a personality calling itself the Phoenix, she fled the mansion, and was pursued by Logan, Ororo, and Charles. Upon arrival and after a battle with Magneto's brotherhood, Logan witnessed Jean destroy Xavier. In the end, Logan's own hand killed Jean, not only to save her Jean but the entire world as well. Surely Death's hunger had been satiated for some time to come.

As Logan leaned on the railing, he found that he couldn't bring himself to accept any of their deaths. Not even Jean's.

They never found Scott's body. They assumed that he had been destroyed much like Xavier, torn to less than atoms then scattered throughout the atmosphere. But before he and Ororo stumbled upon Jean's unconscious body, Logan caught a scent of someone else, foreign and much more aged than any normal person he had encountered. But that small detail was lost in the aftermath, and when Jean admitted that she had killed Scott, no more was said about the situation. But remembering back, Logan wasn't quite sure that Jean had indeed killed Scott.

Logan went through hundreds of possibilities from amnesia to kidnapping, but all of them seemed fantastical when he looked at Scott's name etched in the headstone.

It was the same with Charles. Despite teetering on the edge of oblivion, Charles wasn't worried, giving words of wisdom to the very end. Giving Logan a knowing smile, he was there one second, then ceased to exist the next, obliterated. But there was something in that smile, something that told Logan that wasn't the last time he would see the Professor. And Logan continued to hold onto that to this very day.

And Jean. He had killed her—pierced her with his adamantium claws. But even then, Logan didn't feel that Jean's life was ending. For Jean, it was a chance for redemption and rebirth. So, he waited for the day when Jean would appear at the front doors to the school, flanked by Charles and Scott, smiling and hugging everyone, reuniting the family once again.

Logan took a deep breath, exhaling his thoughts of life after death into the afternoon breeze, letting them flit away, quietly as a butterfly.

A piercing alarm jarred Logan from his solitude, and in no time, he was dashing down the hallways of the mansion, dodging past concerned students. Turning the corner, Logan found Kurt Wagner gliding down the hallway, his lithe body moving gracefully and acrobatically through small packs of students, and his face etched with concern.

"Vat's happening?" Kurt squeezed out in between acrobatic flips as he neared Logan.

"Not sure. It's the Danger Room alarm though."

"I'll get us there," Kurt said as he grabbed Logan's shoulder. Before Logan could voice an adamant protest to the jaunt, both he and Kurt disappeared with a _bamf_, leaving behind a purple cloud of smoke and the unmistakable scent of brimstone.

II.

Rogue moved gingerly underneath the heavy combination of concrete and metal, and cursed silently as the debris shifted and pressed down on her body even harder.

"Just go and find the others," Rogue edged out through gritted teeth. She caught Sage's glance of disdain, which only made her angry. If Sage wasn't going to help her willingly, then she might as well help someone that she at least respected. Besides, Rogue had taken care of herself for this long, why should she start relying on anyone now? "I'll be fine," she added.

Sage pressed a small button on the side of her now trademark sunglasses. Though they all suspected, Sage now proved why she always wore them into battle. Her glasses actually housed a computer system, linked back to Cerebro. It was one of the first things she constructed side-by-side with Hank when she first arrived at the school. And now, it seemed to be proving its usefulness.

A soft blue glow illuminated Sage's features as she scanned the two dimensional screen projected in front of her. She touched the image, and it changed in response. Sage continued to read and change the screen, seeming to have forgotten the imminent danger they were in.

"What are you doing? The others might be in trouble," Rogue tried to sound tough, but the pain made her sound much softer than she meant.

Sage continued to read and touch the screen. Satisfied by what she saw, Sage pressed a button that turned the screen off then she met Rogue's eyes. "I haven't been with you guys that long, but from what I understand, we don't leave anyone behind, isn't that the motto of the X-Men?"

Rogue felt miniscule underneath the judgmental stare Sage kept locked on her. There was nothing friendly in her eyes. Only a withering disdain for the weakest X-Man of them all. It was at that moment that Rogue decided she really didn't like Sage.

"I know that you think I'm weak," Rogue abruptly said. "And if I were stronger, you wouldn't have to worry about me."

"You're right."

As another wave of pressure and pain coursed through Rogue, she felt her face grow hot. Just who the hell did Sage think she was? Rogue expected mature words of comfort, while being consoling and reassuring. If not, then at the very least, Sage could have just remained silent. But Sage agreed with her. Without hesitation.

But maybe Sage was right. In the beginning, Rogue had to be saved by the other X-Men—Storm, Cyclops, Marvel Girl (a codename which Jean rarely used), and Wolverine. All of whom had amazing powers and could handle themselves in a fight. Even when they faced William Stryker, Rogue didn't feel like she played a large part, which was probably due to her passive ability. And even as the danger of Magneto and the Phoenix boiled over, Rogue's doubt, which she translated in to weakness, caused her to strongly consider "the cure."

But in the end, she refused to allow her gift to be eradicated by some miracle serum. Besides, from the reports Dr. McCoy had shared, the cure wasn't permanent. Many mutants found themselves regaining their lost powers. A blessing for some, but a curse for others.

And now here she was, the weakest X-Man, trapped underneath a collapsed building with a newbie hovering over her, probably laughing at her weakness. Colossus would have easily pushed the crap off him. Storm would have created a tornado and blown it off. Jean Grey would have simply thought about it and she would have been free. Wolverine would have been too fast to have been trapped.

Rogue grew bitter and at the same time, her dislike of Sage grew exponentially. "Well, you can't lift this off me either," Rogue grumbled.

With one eyebrow raised curiously, Sage glanced down her nose at Rogue, making her feel like a small child that had just said something completely ludicrous. "I never planned to. You're going to lift it off yourself."

"You're joking, right?" Rogue replied, wincing as another wave of pain racked her body.

She expected Sage to double over in laughter, finding her own joke to be hilarious. But no laughter came. Instead Sage now eyed Rogue curiously.

"I've completed an exhaustive biophysical examination of your body and your genetic code. I discovered that you actually have other abilities at your disposal, but somehow, they were subdued."

Rogue wished Sage would just hurry up and do what she needed to do. The debris wasn't getting any heavier, and Rogue was sure that it was only a matter of time before her bones started crunching underneath the weight. Despite her impatience and impending danger, Rogue still felt hesitant about letting anyone tamper with her powers and body.

"What—what will happen if it doesn't work?" Rogue asked. It seemed improbable and nearly impossible that Sage could actually induce mutant powers in someone else. Rogue really didn't have time to debate the pros and cons of what Sage was suggesting. Hell, all she wanted was to be free and strong enough to help the others. If Sage could do that for her, why would she even hesitate?

Still, the idea of arguing did cross Rogue's mind, but a sharp pain in her midsection made her think twice. If there was something that Sage could do and was willing to do, then what did she have to lose?

As she debated internally, she thought about "the cure". Though what Sage was suggesting sounded completely opposite of the cure, and though it seemed like the right thing to do, what if it turned out for the worst? But she had already tried getting rid of her powers. Maybe it was time to embrace them.

Rogue wanted to voice her concerns, but the crushing debris made it hard to catch her breath, and Rogue knew that in a matter of minutes, she would be in a critical situation and no one would be able to help her. She also heard the distant footsteps of the massive Sentinels as they searched for the rest of their targets.

"I really don't know what could happen. I've never had a failure." Sage smiled mischievously and added, "Of course, you could be my first."

Rogue clenched her teeth in anger. "Just do what you have to do."

Sage kneeled close to Rogue and placed a cold hand on her forehead. "This may hurt a little," Sage warned as she closed her eyes.

Without warning, a jolt of energy tore through Rogue's body. She immediately tensed every single muscle as her back arched and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

The shock to her system instantly reminded her of the surging energy coursing through her when she was strapped to Magneto's electromagnetic pulse machine. She could feel every part of her body stiffen in response to the intrusion then begin to shake from the pure shock. Rogue thought she was going to die.

But as quickly as it started, it was over, and the pain quickly subsided. Rogue's body relaxed, and it was at that point she realized she hadn't been breathing. She took a sharp breath then another. It was like her lungs had forgotten how to intake air. Rogue sat still, afraid to move her arms and legs, scared that they simply wouldn't work anymore. Then a wave of nausea passed over her.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Rogue weakly moaned.

Sage didn't seem the least bit concerned. "It'll pass. Now stop complaining and get that stuff off of you. We have teammates to help."

Rogue took a chance and tried to move her arm. Though a little shaky, she was able to move first her left arm then her right arm. Then she could feel her body and the pressure from the debris on top of her. But the fact that she didn't feel any pain alarmed her.

Rogue was ready to panic, but when she moved her leg, the debris shifted in response. Puzzled, Rogue lifted her leg, and was pleasantly surprised that the rubble simply fell to the side off her as if it weighed less than nothing. She sat up and pushed the rest of it off of the lower part of her body, her heart beginning to race with the joy of discovering something new and strange.

"It's like I'm as strong as a hundred men!" Rogue excitedly said as she stood. She picked up a slab of concrete and broke it in half like a thin cracker. Her green eyes widened, and she locked eyes with Sage. "How did I just do that?"

"It's called superhuman strength," Sage dryly replied. She didn't share Rogue's enthusiasm or surprise over her newfound abilities.

"You mean I'm as strong as Colossus?"

"Let's not get carried away."

Rogue took a step forward but almost fell over. She was midway toward the ground when she suddenly stopped. Rogue looked around, expecting to see Sage having moved superhumanly fast and caught her mid-fall, but when she looked around, there was nothing—she was floating in midair! "I—I can fly?" she whispered in stark disbelief.

"Flight, enhanced strength, invulnerability, and your tactile absorption ability," Sage reported after checking her handheld device. She turned it off and slipped it back into a pocket in her top.

Rogue felt a riveting energy coursing through her, and her mind raced too. She couldn't believe that all this time, she had these hidden powers. She didn't know which was the best—the flying, the strength, or the invulnerability. She just wished that Sage could've done something about her tactile absorption. Maybe she would ask Sage about it later.

"Oh, wow. Wait 'til I show everybody else!"

Sage sighed impatiently. "Be amazed later, we're in the middle of a battle."

Rogue suddenly flushed with embarrassment. Here she was, an X-Man, suddenly imbued with new offensive powers and she was acting like a child with a new toy. "Right," she replied, taking a more serious stance. "But how do I land and take off?"

Of course, Sage rolled her eyes. "Does it look like I can fly? How should I know? Now come on."

_She can be a real bitch_, Rogue thought, but she immediately blushed at using such a derogatory term about one of her teammates. But Rogue was sure when she told Bobby, he would agree.

Rogue steadied herself and thought about what she was doing. If she remembered correctly from hearing the tail end of Storm's Aerial Tactics Forum, flying required concentration. If she thought about flying and keeping herself level, she shouldn't have any problem.

Trailing behind Sage, Rogue concentrated on soaring in the air and streamlining herself. Her first moments in the air were shaky at best. Rogue almost took a hard fall but caught herself just in time. She flew only a few feet from the ground, but that was high enough for her right now. Rogue took her time and moved forward at an even pace, despite the imminent danger they and the rest of their team were in. Her new powers would be of no use if she flew into a wall or knocked herself unconscious on the ground.

Sage kept scanning the buildings, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of their teammates. When she finally did, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. An arm jutted out from underneath some building debris that must have fallen in the explosions, similar to Rogue's situation.

Without hesitation, Rogue flew to her teammate's aid. She easily tossed the debris to the side, exposing the unmoving body of their team leader, Dani Moonstar.

Sage quickly checked Dani's pulse, and finding it to be strong, managed to wake Dani from her unconsciousness. Dani sprang up, frantically looking from Rogue to Sage.

"Where's everyone else?" Dani asked, regaining her composure. She then looked at Rogue suspiciously. "And how are you flying?"

"I detected some kind of power spike, which somehow disrupted the Danger Room. We can't end the program, and I'm sure that the safety protocols have been knocked offline. As for Rogue, I had to jumpstart her powers. And right now, we need all the power we can get."

Dani nodded in understanding. She stood, brushing herself off then tried her collar radio. "Blue Strike Force, this is Gold Strike Force. Come in." Static sounded through the radio. Frowning, Dani turned to Sage and Rogue. "We'll find Colossus and Cannonball then we'll find the other team."

Rogue asked, "How are we gonna get out of here?"

"I don't know. All we can do is hope that someone is trying to get in here from the outside," Dani replied.

"Let's find the rest," Sage said. While Rogue flew several feet above, Sage and Dani moved stealthily across the terrain, effectively maneuvering through the devastated streets, all three hoping that the rest of their team was okay.

III.

The menacing Sentinel loomed over the Blue Strike Force, calculating an infinite string of possible moves they could make. The analysis was complete in less than a second, its body ready to respond with the proper counterattack. The Sentinel kept its amber eyes scanning over each of the five mutants speckled among the ruins. Periodically, it would switch its scan from infrared, to heat signature, to night vision, and to mutant signature to ensure none of the targets slipped under the radar.

Bobby Drake stared back at the Sentinel, positive that the next pulse blast would do most, if not all, of his teammates serious harm. He watched as the Sentinel's palm absorbed orange energy from the atmosphere, readying another blast at point blank range. But already, he had formulated a plan that would need everyone's talents in order to succeed.

"Hellion, can you deflect the next shot?" Bobby whispered, keeping his eyes on the Sentinel.

"Don't worry, Drake. I can handle it," Julian answered, focusing his telekinetic energy on the growing energy.

Bobby shot Kitty and Nori a glance off to the right. "Shadowcat, Surge, we're going to need a distraction." They nodded in understanding, keeping their eyes locked on the Sentinel.

"Gambit, how fast can you charge large objects?"

As if Remy already knew what was in store, he answered, "Fast enough t' make your plan work, mon ami."

Bobby was impressed with Gambit. Though a newbie, and less than sociable, Gambit was a reliable asset to the team.

"Make your move, tin can!" Bobby shouted. And just as he thought, the Sentinel did in fact make a move, firing a laser blast right at Bobby and company.

At the speed of thought, Julian focused on the glowing beam of energy and successfully deflected it into the side of a building. Large chunks of debris fell around Remy, and he immediately laid his hands on some of the larger pieces. He channeled kinetic energy into the objects until he felt feedback, a forceful backlash signaling the objects full capacity of kinetic energy. Remy saw that Julian was helping Nori, Kitty, and Bobby with keeping the Sentinel's attention elsewhere.

Remy let off a shrill whistle, and Julian caught his cue. He lifted the charged debris off the ground then rocketed it straight towards the Sentinel. Not a moment after the debris made impact with the Sentinel, Remy snapped his fingers and a massive explosion followed.

The Sentinel, now smoking and missing an arm, a chunk of body, and half of its head, toppled to the ground, as the amber glow from its eyes died. It spat out a few broken sentences, overshadowed by buzzing electrical wiring and slowed by its energy core losing power. Then, the robot was silent.

Bobby scanned his team, checking everyone for any obvious signs of injury. Satisfied that no one was hurt in the skirmish, Bobby radioed in to Dani. "Mirage, this is Iceman. Come in."

Static was his only reply.

"Dammit," Bobby cursed under his breath. Not only was the Danger Room on the fritz, but now, he couldn't get in touch with the other team. If they were being challenged by Sentinels with intent to kill, chances were, they were in the same boat. "Kitty, is there some override program that we can access from in here?"

Kitty thought for a moment. She had recently taken a keen interest in the inner working of the technological aspect of the mansion, which included most of the equipment located in the basement. Meeting almost daily with Hank and an inventor named Forge, Kitty grew more and more knowledgeable about the computers and programs. However, regarding the Danger Room, Kitty's knowledge was severely limited because of its complicated nature. Even Hank and Forge were at a loss when it came to some of the more intricate details.

She shook her head. "The only two people who would know the answer to that are Magneto and Professor Xavier. There's nothing we can do in here. And quite honestly, I don't think there's anything they can do out there either."

Bobby knew that Ororo and Sean were watching over their Danger Room session, but he wasn't sure how the surge had affected them. He had no idea on what was going on out there. But right now, he had to focus his energies on what was going on inside of the Danger Room, positive that someone was on the outside doing all they could to get them out.

"We've got to find Mirage and her team," Bobby stated.

"How do you suggest we do that, genius? None of our equipment works," Julian shot.

"Use your head for a change. We have eyes, ears, and legs. We'll do it the old fashioned way," Kitty replied, coming to Bobby's defense.

Bobby internally smiled. Kitty respected his relationship with Rogue, but he could still tell there was something between the two of them that surfaced anytime they were near each other. Yet, both of them knew that they couldn't act on it. Bobby because of Rogue and Kitty because of her on and off thing with Peter.

"Gambit don't think arguing'll get us anywhere."

"He's right," Nori said, trying to push her guilt to the side. If anything, this was all her fault—they wouldn't even be in this mess if she had better control over her powers. Now, she was going to do everything she could in order to ensure they made it out of the Danger Room alive.

Julian scowled, "This place goes on forever. So you tell me, where the hell are we supposed to start looking?"

Bobby opened his mouth to say something, but a large explosion shook the ground, interrupting the conversation. He saw a blazing streak emerge from above the buildings a few blocks over, loop, then head back downward.

"That's Sam!" Kitty said.

"Then that's where we're going," Bobby commanded. Without hesitation, Kitty tagged along with Bobby as he created an ice slide and careened through the streets, Gambit moved stealthily quick through the buildings, leaping over debris and easily traversing through hard to access places, proving his acrobatic prowess, and Julian wrapped his thoughts around Nori and they were soaring through the sky towards Sam.

They all arrived in time to see a Sentinel fall mercilessly against a mighty blow from an armored Peter Rasputin, Colossus. Sam blew through another Sentinel, leaving a jagged hole in the middle of its chest. Opposite from them, Bobby noticed Sage, Dani, and Rogue, who was flying.

"Halt mutant," another Sentinel droned.

"Looks like you're going to get the chance to out those new powers of yours," Sage said as she dashed toward the Sentinel, effectively drawing its attention.

Gritting her teeth, Rogue soared toward the Sentinel's head. It noticed her too late. Rouge planted a solid punch on the Sentinels jaw. The sheer force of the blow lifted the Sentinel off its feet and it toppled headfirst on the ground, effectively taking it out of the battle.

"I'm not easily impressed but wow," Sage commented as she watched the amber glow slowly die out of the Sentinels eyes.

Rogue looked at her fist disbelievingly. She had taken out a Sentinel all by herself. And these powers, they were hers and hers alone. There was no way she wanted to get rid of her powers now. Rogue was ready to embrace them and use them however she could to help her friends.

"Rogue!" Bobby called as he leaped down from the ice slide, followed by Kitty. Rogue, still a little unsteady, flew toward them and landed next to an astonished Bobby. "You—you can fly?"

"She would have been crushed if I hadn't jumpstarted her powers," Sage explained.

"So it's permanent?" Dani asked.

"Yes, but she'll need a full examination from Dr. McCoy when we get out of here. Speaking of, how are we getting out of here?"

Notes:

Rising Goddess: Here's the update! Let me know what you think.

Ratdogtwo: Thanks for staying with the story. Hope this chapter is as good as the others.


	6. Chapter 6

I.

_Bamf!_

In a bright flash of light, accompanied by a purple haze, Kurt and Logan appeared at the entrance to the Danger Room. Ororo, Sean, and Hank were already at the door, trying to do everything they could to get the door open. Hank tampered with the emergency control panel, hoping to break the code to allow them in. Ororo blasted the door with a concentrated bolt of lightning, taking turns with Sean as he bombarded the door with his sonic scream. Neither attempt made even a small dent.

"What the hell is going on?" Logan gruffly asked.

Ororo let the lightning dissipate as she answered. "Nori's powers went awry and somehow effected the Danger Room. The kids are trapped in there and the safety protocols are malfunctioning." Her sky blue eyes shifted from Logan to Kurt. "Can you get us in there?"

"I can try," Kurt said. He took Ororo's hand and in a flash, they were gone. But only a half a second later, they reappeared in the same location. Both of them looked puzzled.

"Interesting. So Charles did manage to modify the basement," Hank rubbed his furry chin, already lost in deep thought on the technical aspect of all the modifications, nearly forgetting the current situation.

"What do you mean _modify_?" Ororo demanded, snapping Hank out of his thoughts.

For a moment, he looked as though he were pondering the right way to frame what he needed to say. Then he answered, "After Stryker's assault on the school, Charles assessed the different vulnerabilities of the mansion and discovered that despite all of the security measures, this area was the least secure. He enlisted the aid of Forge to modify certain areas, making them impenetrable, to his own students and even to himself."

A puzzled look crossed Kurt's face. "Why would he—"

"Because of Jean. He knew..." Ororo trailed off. Since the conversation Ororo had with Charles, when he asked her to take over the responsibilities of the school, she felt that he knew much more than he was telling them. It was at that moment that Ororo wondered whether she really knew everything there was to know about Charles Xavier.

"There really is no telling what he did and didn't know," Hank replied, still rubbing his chin in thought. "Charles always maintained a barrier, keeping his inner most thoughts private, even to us." He paused for a moment, he too realizing how much they didn't know about their mentor. "The Danger Room," Hank continued, "can double as a secure bunker for the students in the event we ever had an incident like before."

"But it seems that the security has turned it into a death trap," Emma Frost followed her voice around the corner, sauntering toward the group with a walk that demanded attention.

"Ach. Is there no way in?" Sean asked.

Hank shook his head. "Forge made the modifications and the only person that knew how to bypass the security was Charles himself. But he used the two-person concept, meaning that two people had to input their codes to override the system."

"He didn't even trust himself," Ororo quietly said.

"There's no telling what levels our enemies would stoop to in order to infiltrate the school. And we've witnessed our own turn into our worst enemies," Hank said.

"Well then, looks like we'll have to improvise. Hank, have you studied the blueprints of the mansion and basement?"

"Daily. I—"

"I'm going to enter your mind and view that blueprint. I'm going to open a channel with Katherine as well. She's going to be their only hope of getting out of there."

Despite an air of tension, Emma looked to Ororo for approval to go through with her plan. Ororo gave a nod of approval, motioning to Hank to let her do what she needed to do.

"This will only take a second," Emma said as she closed her eyes and held out her hand toward Hank. In a flash, the entire blueprint of the basement was a clear image in Emma's mind. She twisted the two-dimensional image into a three-dimensional image, incorporating what she knew about the landscape underneath the mansion.

_"I'm going to get you out of there,"_ Emma Frost projected her voice through the solid wall of the Danger Room into Kitty's head.

"Ms. Frost?" she said aloud, forgetting that she could simply think her reply, and Emma would hear it. Though she was glad to hear an instructor's voice, she would have rather it been Ororo, Logan, or Hank. Even Sean or Forge would have been cool. Anyone but Ms. Frost.

New to the school, Ms. Frost was known for her psychic prowess, which was matched by her no-nonsense, superior demeanor. None of the students liked her, except Julian, which didn't surprise Kitty at all. Both of them were apples from the same tree. Oh, then there were her weird triplet protégés, dubbed the Stepford Cuckoos, all three resembling teenage versions of Emma. On top of that, Kitty didn't like her since she was the first, and only, teacher to give her detention.

_"I want you to phase all of you down below the Danger Room. I will then direct you through the ground so you can emerge outside of it."_

Kitty felt a wave of trepidation suddenly emerge. When she replied, she remembered she could just project her thoughts to Emma. _"I've only phased one other person, which is hard to do. I don't know if I can do nine."_

_ "You and your teammates don't have time for doubt, Katherine."_

Kitty hated the way Emma said her name. It always sounded belittling, like Emma was talking to a child. But despite her tone, Emma was right. The Sentinels were unforgiving and out for blood. And she wasn't sure how long their skill would hold out against Sentinels that were infinitely generated with the sole intent to annihilate them.

"Okay, looks like we're going to take a little trip underground," Kitty announced to her teammates. "I'm going to phase us into the ground below here then Ms. Frost is going to guide us into the mansion."

"Are you okay with this?" Bobby asked, detecting the hint of hesitation in Kitty's voice.

"I'm going to have to be," Kitty replied. She told everyone to hold hands then gave a final warning, "Whatever you do, don't let go." She took a deep breath and concentrated on phasing the other nine people behind her.

Her natural state was to be phased—staying physically tangible was an act of will, but to turn something intangible required a large amount of focus on her part. One person was easy, but nine people at once...that would be quite a challenge. One lapse could have detrimental effects, such as one of them materializing in the middle of a wall. Though the molecules of the wall would shift, making room for the intrusion, if they were stuck inside the wall, they would quickly suffocate.

Kitty phased first then the state passed down the line, one by one, until the rest could feel their insides tingling, a common effect for anyone phasing with Kitty. She willed herself downward, sinking into the ground, her teammates trailing behind her.

_"Where do I go from here?"_ Kitty telepathically asked Emma.

From outside the Danger Room, Emma held her hands to her temples, concentrating on the blueprint she was drawing from her mind and keeping her and Kitty linked. Mentally orienting the image, she determined Kitty's position solely from the telepathic distance between them, a technique mastered only by some of the more advanced telepaths.

_"Go straight forward from your current position about thirty feet."_ Emma waited until Kitty followed each set of directions before moving to the next. _"Take a left and go another fifty feet. Now, take a right and go twenty-three feet. Now, head upwards ,angling thirty-eight degrees."_

Concentrating on keeping everyone phased was putting an unbelievable strain on Kitty. Her head was pounding and she was barely able to keep count of her steps. Still, Kitty knew that she was the only hope for her teammates at this point and if she let her concentration slip for a fraction of a second, it would mean death for one or all of her teammates. So, she kept pressing forward through the pain, until her head emerged into the familiar basement hallway.

She held onto Bobby's hand tightly as they rose one by one out of the ground, each one looking a bit nauseous and dirty, but not significantly harmed. When Remy totally emerged from the ground, Kitty let go of Bobby's hand, returning them all to their natural solid state.

Kitty felt the ground shift and before she knew it, she was falling. Bobby caught her, and held her, but she was partially phasing parts of her body, unable to concentrate to keep herself solid.

Ororo ran to Kitty's side as Hank, Sean, and Emma attended to the other students. Logan took special interest in Rogue, who was frantically relaying to Hank how she came upon her new powers.

"Kitty!" Ororo called, kneeling next to Bobby. "Kitty, you have to concentrate."

Ororo's strong, commanding voice broke through her haze of confusion and she focused once again on solidifying her body, ensuring that she didn't materialize inside of Bobby.

"Hey, you did good, Kit-Kat," Bobby grinned.

"Thanks," she whispered and gave him a weak smile.

Rogue watched from the back of the group, trying to push back the pangs of jealousy but failing miserably. Regardless of being able to topple Sentinels or crush steel, the one thing she longed to do was to touch someone without killing them. And Kitty was always there to remind Rogue that she would never be able to touch Bobby the way she could.

Disgusted, turned and punched the wall, leaving a fist-sized dent then stormed down the hallway, noticed only by Remy LeBeau.

"Well, Katherine, it seems you finally pushed yourself," Emma stood over Bobby as he held Kitty.

Though weak, Kitty wanted nothing more than to slap Emma's smug expression off her face. But being too disoriented to think of a snappy comeback, Kitty simply threw a look of acknowledgment Emma's way then let Bobby help her to her feet.

_ "Help me."_

The faint voice startled Emma. She gave a quick glance around at everyone in the hallway, and didn't see anyone that would have called out for help. She quickly scanned the Danger Room, but found no one else inside.

_ "Help me."_

The voice was unfamiliar and desperate. Emma tried to backtrack, retracing the projected thought until she found its origin, but the trail stopped outside of the mansion, as if the originator had totally cut off their thoughts.

She hoped that the voice would call out one more time. That was all she needed to find out who needed help, but it didn't sound again. Then, the voice was a fading whisper in the back of Emma's mind.

"Is something wrong?" Hank's gruff voice broke through Emma's thoughts, startling her.

"No," she said much too quickly. She composed herself before replying again. "It's nothing. I'm just glad the students are safe."

She thought about telling Hank about the strange woman's voice, but what would she say? That a voice no one else can hear called out to me. Emma couldn't pinpoint where the voice came from, who it belonged to, or if the woman really was in some sort of danger. Chances are, she would sound crazy, and Emma refused to subject herself to such scrutiny. Being accused of madness once was enough for her.

Content that her presence was no longer needed, Emma took her leave, and pushed the woman's plea out of her mind.

II.

Located off the coast of Scotland, Muir Island served as home to only a few hundred people, one of them being Dr. Moira MacTaggart. As Erik Lensherr stood on the roof of the Muir Island Genetic Research Center, overlooking the dark, ebbing ocean, he imagined life on an island—his own island. He would make it a safe haven for mutants, where none of them had to live in fear or be oppressed by prejudiced humans. Or maybe he could devise someway to create a space station, again a haven for mutants to live peacefully.

But Erik wanted humans to suffer for their crimes. An eye for an eye. If they were willing to kill to prove their point of superiority then shouldn't they, as the more powerful species, do the same? It only made sense to Erik, but when he tried to convince Charles Xavier, he failed every time.

The road to the acceptance of mutants had always been a point of contention between the two of them. At some point, they agreed to disagree, until the attacks and intolerance became so brazen that Erik couldn't sit by and idly watch. Taking up a costume and the name Magneto, Erik persuaded others to join his cause. But in the end, Charles and his X-Men would somehow pull out on top, which only solidified Xavier's belief that he was right.

But his confidence was his undoing. One of his own students, Jean Grey, had become much more powerful than they could have ever imagined. And in a display of deadly force, Jean killed Charles, seemingly with no remorse. But Charles managed to cheat death.

Self-preservation is a basic function of all creatures—humans and mutants are no different. And Charles, despite his self-righteousness, was no different. Crossing the line of ethical discretion, Charles projected his psyche into a patient that had been brain dead for years. Once Moira discovered what had happened, she paid Erik a visit, needing his help to restore Charles to his own body.

Erik agreed because he felt guilty for not being able to do anything but watch his friend be torn apart on a molecular level. Not only that, but though his intentions were good in his eyes, he ultimately indirectly caused the death of Jean Grey. Erik tried to convince himself day in and day out that both of their deaths were necessary so other mutants would open their eyes. But deep down, he knew better.

They both were victims of circumstance, and Erik was the catalyst. So helping Moira allowed him some sort of redemption on a level that few would understand, even Charles. But as he watched the setting sun, he knew that he wouldn't be staying for long.

"I knew y'd be up here," Moira leaned over the balcony next to Erik as her eyes rested on the burning orange sun, now falling slowly below the horizon. "Tis a beautiful view, isn't it?"

"Breathtaking."

Expectant silence fell between them. Erik could already tell that Moira hadn't come out just to enjoy the view. And her subsequent sigh confirmed it.

"You have something you want to say, don't you?" Erik asked.

Moira didn't answer right away. She let the sounds of the seagulls gliding and the soothing crash of the waves on the rocks about a hundred feet below them fill in the void left by the silence. After a few moments of peace, Moira took in another deep breath then began to speak, keeping her eyes on the setting sun.

"I cannae believe you let Charles face Jean. He was y'r—"

"Enemy?" Erik sharply finished for her, though he knew that wasn't what she was going to say.

"Friend," she tersely replied. Moira turned to him, the repressed anger for what happened finally surfacing. "Charles was y'r friend. He was our friend. We've been friends for years, and y' let him down."

Erik scoffed at her comment. "I didn't come here for you to lecture me, Moira. You asked for my help and I gave it. That's all you need to be concerned with."

It was at that point that Moira realized how far they had grown apart. So much in fact, that Moira didn't know Erik. And she definitely didn't want to know Magneto. But she still couldn't fathom allowing any friend to face death and having no remorse for that action.

She turned back to the setting sun, letting the sounds of the evening take over the conversation.

"I don't expect you to understand. And I don't want your forgiveness. I don't even have my own forgiveness. But the world is not as it was before, Moira. And I refuse to stand idly by while my people are subjugated to the horrors of prejudice. Any single casualty that is better for the whole is worth it."

"So that's all Charles was for y'? A means to an end?"

"His death was a rally point to turn the tide in our favor. Those humans," he spat, "they wanted to cure us—take away our God-given powers. And I won't allow that, no matter the cost."

"So y' don't care about the consequences, just as long as you achieve your end goal, huh? In the end, Erik, you're no better as the people you're trying to defeat." Disgusted and tired, Moira turned and left Erik alone on the roof.

Erik watched the sun dip completely below the horizon as the sky changed from a rainbow of color to a deep midnight blue. "I am truly sorry," Erik whispered.

III.

Once again, Jack Stover stood in front of a restless crowd at the Sea Breeze on the boardwalk. The last time he had taken center stage, not only had the crowd been unruly and emotional, but he had been challenged and kicked off the stage by a punk and the tyrant known as Magneto.

Not this time.

Jack had held back the last time, but things were vastly different this time. People had died because he didn't take a stand. If anyone so much as breathed wrong, they would find out first-hand how dangerous his tattoos really were.

"We were fools to listen to Magneto," he boldly began. He expected several shouts of dissention, but the audience, only half of what it was before, remained quiet. "There is a right way to do things and a wrong way. And you see the results of doing things the wrong way. Eighty-two casualties from our own family. Useless deaths, caused by impatience and flat out stupidity. We're strong, but—"

"There is no but."

Jack wasn't surprised that someone had broken into his speech, but he was surprised that he didn't recognize the voice. He glanced over the crowd, but they seemed as perplexed as him, looking around the room for the intruder.

"If you do indeed possess it, strength will ensure your survival," Death stepped from the shadows flanked by Pestilence, Famine, and War.

"Only the strongest survive," Pestilence added as her lips curved into a wicked smile.

Before Jack could address them, some of the members in the audience stirred and stood, shooting a challenging look back at the intruders. Jack knew there was going to be trouble, and though he hated to admit it, there wasn't a mutant in this room that could handle these four. Even him.

Their tight, leather outfits, pale skin, and lack of visible pupils and irises were enough to tell Jack that these four weren't some run-of-the-mill mutants. They stood confidently on the balcony, looking down on them as if they were less than scum. Whatever they had come here to do, they weren't leaving until it was done.

Jack stepped forward, feeling the stirring of his tattoos. "I don't know why you've come, but we're not interested."

"It is not our concern whether you are interested or not," Famine replied. It is the time for natural selection to run its course across this weak world."

For a moment, Jack considered laughing. First Magneto, now some badly dressed group of upstarts were trying to disrupt the little bit of organization he had reestablished. Who the hell did they think they were?

Jack stepped forward and addressed the foursome. "I don't know who you are, but I'll ask you now to leave. We don't need anymore people like you or Magneto bringing trouble into our lives."

In response, War let a menacing growl tear from his throat, effectively startling the crowd.

"What is wrong with you people?" one woman shouted. "We shouldn't stand against each other like this. We should be working together to ensure the future of mutantkind."

Death smiled darkly. "I have seen the future of this world. And none of you are in it."

Death flexed his wings and heard a sharp metal snap. His once radiant white wings were now sharply angled wings of metal. Acute shards had taken the place of feathers, the radiant white glow now replaced by a metallic shine. He was flanked by Pestilence, who held up a hand of crackling magnetic energy, and Famine enveloped himself in white hot flame, which had already scorched his flesh to ash, leaving behind a skeletal visage, and charred bones for his hands. War, now a hulking ashen monster, reared his fangs and claws, waiting for Death's signal.

"We made a mistake by not fighting back last time," Jack said as his tattoos stirred, "but not this time."

"Then prove yourselves," Death shouted. In the instant after a slight nod from Death, a battle erupted, filling the Sea Breeze with sounds of energy flying and screams of pain. The commotion only lasted a few minutes, leaving the Sea Breeze still with the smell of death heavy in the air. It wasn't long before the metallic odor of blood began to seep from the Sea Breeze over the bay.

Death, accompanied by his other three teammates, burst through the doors and set forth to remake this world in the image of Apocalypse.

IV.

_ "Help me."_

Charles opened his eyes slowly, unsure that the plea for help he just heard wasn't simply a remnant of a quickly fading dream. Though he hoped to hear it again, the voice didn't call out to him again, but he could feel the pace of his heart quicken, and a feeling of dread rise in his stomach.

Though he tried to deny it to himself, Charles recognized the voice immediately. There was no mistaking the gentle, yet firm voice of one of his first students. Charles remembered her emerald eyes and distinctively red hair, accompanied by one of the warmest, sincere smiles he had ever seen. However, that visage turned dark as her hair stirred, moved by the energies of her mind. Her emerald eyes disappeared, leaving behind dark voids of death, and her face became drawn and pallid.

Charles banished the vision away and wiped his hand across his forehead. He had just slipped into his wheelchair when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," Charles called as he repositioned himself in the familiar wheelchair.

"I was hoping y' were awake," Moira quickly entered the room and closed the door. "How are y' feeling?"

Charles smiled. "I have to presume I'm doing fine. I've never projected my consciousness into two different bodies before and had to relearn to use my cloned body. But, there's something wrong, isn't there?"

"Your mind reading seems to be fully functioning," she replied.

"You know that I don't read someone's mind without good cause. I've known you for a long time, Moira. And I can tell when something's bothering you, with or without my powers."

Moira sighed and sat down in a chair across the room. "I will never understand the both of ye."

"Both of us have been shaped by life, and the outcome is as variable as the blue in the ocean. We will always be friends, and we both want to make the world better. But life has given us our focus and our end goal. I want equality between humans and mutants. Erik wants to subvert humans. It's what he believes is the right way."

Charles took a glance out of the large panel window behind Moira, taking notice of the darkening night. Everything from here seemed calm and peaceful. But he knew that halfway around the world, his students were still fighting for his dream. Because there were people like Magneto still loose out there. If they didn't stand up for Xavier's dream, Charles knew that both sides would lose in the end.

"What about y'r students? They need y' Charles."

He locked eyes with Moira. "I can't go to them. Not yet."

"Charles, I can nae believe that y' don't want to contact your X-Men," Moira MacTaggart set her cup down angrily and glared at the man sitting across from her. Her Scottish slant to her words only accentuated the sharpness of her tone. "You're fully recovered and you've got full functionality of every aspect."

Charles simply returned with a fatherly smile and kind eyes then added, "Except my legs. I have one of the greatest minds on the earth and despite now inhabiting a perfect clone of my body, I still can't walk."

Moira shook her head, sweeping her auburn bangs from her brow. "That should be the least of your concern. Y're alive and back in your own body. Y' were nearly destroyed by Jean Grey."

Charles immediately reflected on the plea for help he heard minutes ago, and suddenly figured out the significance of the event. "Yes, I was. But from Jean's standpoint, the situation isn't that simple," Charles mysteriously said.

"I dinnae understand."

"I didn't understand either. I was so preoccupied with the danger Jean was in, I never stopped to assess whether the entity in front of me was really Jean." He met Moira's confused gaze and continued. "Jean has the potential for limitless power, as we saw. Though I blocked off portions of her power, the other personality, the Phoenix, found a way to break through. But when Jean reappeared, our analysis was far from conclusive. After entering her mind for those last few moments, I came to realize that the woman in front of me wasn't Jean Grey, at least, not entirely."

"So who was she?"

"Not _who_ but _what_. Jean's power allowed her to do virtually whatever she wanted, and the Phoenix personality knew that. In an effort to live and be free, it released itself from Jean's mind, creating a solid body for itself."

"It created a body? But how?"

"The person we saw was an astral projection of Jean. But Jean's power made it much more than just an image. It became a solid projection of the Phoenix personality. Having no other template to use, it took the shape of Jean."

"But what about Jean's personality? The reports show that she had lapses between the two personalities."

"Just as Jean was complete with the Phoenix personality, the Phoenix was also complete with Jean. It couldn't simply separate itself into a single being, so it took aspects of Jean's personality with it, including her memories. Which is why Jean's personality surfaced quite often."

"But then she was killed."

"The Phoenix entity was killed," Charles corrected.

"Then where is Jean?"

"If all theories are correct, then Jean Grey is still at the bottom of Alkali Lake."

Notes:

: Glad to see you like the flow of the plot so far. I'm throwing a few more twists in there, so tell me what you think.

Roguepixie04: And I've finally updated. Make sure to leave me a review!

J. Tyler: Yes, it's true. In the comic, they finally did confirm that Lorna was Magneto's daughter.

Cassandra581: Here's the next chapter. You'll have to let me know if it is as wonderful as the others.


	7. Chapter 7

I.

Michael Mjnari watched curiously as Hank and Forge discussed technical aspects of the Danger Room that were way over his head. After their discussion, they would either disappear under the console for another twenty minutes, or they would stare at the screen as their hands moved rapidly over the keyboards, switches, and buttons.

By the time they finished, it was well past dinner time, and Michael definitely felt pangs of hunger eating away at his stomach. "Are you guys finally done? If you had told me it would've taken this long, I would have sat around in my godmother's office. At least she would have gotten something to eat."

Forge chuckled and shook his head. "My apologies. Hank called me about the Danger Room while I was in the airport waiting for your flight. The problem took a little longer to solve than we originally intended."

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"Ahh, my young friend, though we were able to discern the problem, the exact cause continues to elude us." Hank scratched his chin and looked skyward, as if searching the heavens for the answer. "I can only surmise that Nori's overload and subsequent release of her electric energies somehow adversely affected the hardware."

Michael smiled, amazed every time he heard Hank speak. For a muscular, grizzly looking beast, Hank seemed as gentle as a child, blessed with the intellect and vocabulary of a genius.

Though Michael was taken by surprise when he first saw Hank, he didn't let it show. Ororo had described Hank to him many times, along with some of the other not-so-normal looking residents of Xavier's. But actually seeing one of them in person was completely different from listening to stories over the phone or reading it over e-mail.

"Well, since that's all figured out, let's get some food," Michael replied, obviously hinting at his own hunger. "And if Ororo isn't busy, I'd like to see her."

"This is your lucky day. I think I can help you with both of those," Forge grinned as he wiped off his hands. Hank, you coming?"

"I dare not refuse an invitation to partake of some exquisite cuisine," Hank stood, and in an amazing display of agility and finesse, leaped into the air with a front flip, twisted so he could repel off the wall, flipped again, and landed next to the door. "After you," he smiled as he opened the door.

As the three of them strolled through the hallways of the school, Michael noticed curious glances from people that looked to be about his age. He could only presume they were students here, and probably though he was a new student at the school.

Michael had tinkered with the idea and was even thinking about asking Ororo if he could enroll. True, he was interested in the adventurous lives they seemed to lead, but the academic rigor of Xavier's was well known and respected. If he could make it through there, he had a good shot at whatever college he wanted to attend.

"So you were telling me in the car about some talents you've developed," Forge said, snapping Michael out of his thoughts.

"Oh, right. Well, I'm not really sure when it started, but my friends are the ones that noticed it. I'm able to run much faster than anyone else. Like super fast. And even dodging things and catching things, I can move so fast. It seems natural to me, and maybe that's why I didn't notice it at first."

Hank rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Accelerated reflexes and agility, as well as enhanced speed. Your body is probably altered to withstand high speeds. You probably have other heightened attributes directed tied to your athleticism. Astounding."

"So this is normal?" Michael asked as he sat down at the oversized dining room table.

"Some would say yes, others would have quite a different opinion," Ororo answered as she rounded the corner. Her radiant white hair trailed behind her, complimented by her loose, pale green blouse and khaki pants. Her leather boots tapped delicately on the hardwood floor.

"Ororo!" Michael stood and he hugged her.

She pulled back and looked him up and down. "The last time I saw you, you were three years old. Now look at you. You're nearly grown up now."

Michael smiled brightly in return. "I'm just glad I could take some time off from school and visit."

"I'm surprised your mother and father allowed you to come all this way during the school year."

"Don't think for a second there wasn't a lot of pleading and bargaining going on. I think I promised the rest of my life away."

Ororo laughed. She could only imagine Michael pleading with James and Kayla. But in the end, they knew that he would be in good hands. Ororo and Kayla were like sisters, and Ororo knew that she trusted her as such.

"Well, the only reason Hank and Forge would set foot outside of the laboratory is to eat, am I correct?"

Forge smiled. "You know us too well."

"I think Tom's whipping up something in there already for dinner. Let's see if we can put in a quick order."

Ororo gave Michael a hug as they made their way to the kitchen. She was thankful that he was finally able to come out and visit, but a nagging feeling kept telling her that the timing was bad. Very bad.

II.

_"Help me."_

Julian Keller flinched once then sat straight up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. His breath came in short and ragged gasps, and his eyes darted around nervously. But Julian knew that he wouldn't find anyone in his room. The voice was inside his head, and she needed help. His help.

Julian didn't know when exactly the voice started calling to him. But he was sure that what had started out as the faintest of whispers had turned into a deafening plea. Lately, he hadn't been able to concentrate in class and was distracted in the Danger Room. When he went to see Dr. McCoy, he told Julian that he had a fever and to get some bed rest. But Julian knew he wasn't sick. It was her.

_"Help me."_

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, untangled the covers, and stood slowly. He crossed his room to the window, opened it fully, and took a deep breath of night air. Closing his eyes, he tried to push the voice from his mind, but there it was again, right at the edges of consciousness, traversing time and space to reach him. But why?

It was a question that he had pondered over for weeks. If someone was truly in danger, why would they come to him? This was his first semester at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and he had just begun to control his telekinesis. If this woman could contact him then surely she could contact the teachers—the X-Men—that could help her. Or maybe there was a reason why she didn't want to contact them. Maybe he was a pawn in some bigger scheme and would be disposed of as soon as he lent this woman the help she needed.

Julian wasn't the type to back down from a challenge. But there was something strange about this whole situation, and he couldn't help but to think there was more to this than just simply helping an old lady across the street.

He hadn't told anyone about the voice. Who would believe that some mysterious woman was asking him for help? Julian figured that he could handle it on his own, but as time wore on, he found his sanity slowly deteriorating.

_"Help me."_

"What do you want from me?!?" Julian screamed out of the window, his voice echoing out into the night.

_"Help me. The lake."_

The lake? Alkali Lake. They were told to stay away from that area, which was about an hour away. Julian glanced at his watch. Five minutes after twelve. He could slip out and get to the lake by one, find out what was doing on, and be back by two or two-thirty. He could slip in and out without anyone knowing, of course relying on a few telekinetic tricks.

Julian didn't care about the consequences. He just wanted the voice to stop. And if the only way to do that was to go to Alkali Lake, then so be it. He would deal with the rest later. He threw on jeans, a t-shirt, tennis shoes, and a jacket, then slipped out his door.

_"Help me."_

It was a Friday night, but Julian didn't expect anyone to be awake. He could slip through the living room, into the long hallway, and into the garage. He would have to take one of the cars—maybe the RX-8—which could do 120 mph easily. If he got pulled over for speeding, he would deal with it. He had his checkbook, and everyone had their price.

He had a plan and everything was going accordingly, until he ran into Sam Guthrie and Kitty Pryde.

"Geez, Keller. Watch where you're going," Kitty snapped. She didn't care for Julian that much and she never hesitated to let a tone of disdain slip out when she spoke to him. She looked him up and down and saw that he was fully clothed and obviously jittery. "Where are you going?"

"None of your business, Pryde," Julian coldly answered as he breezed by them toward the garage door. He figured that if people have already seen him, he might as well stop sneaking around. Besides, no one was going to stop him. He was going to find out who was calling out to him and why. And if anyone stood in his way, they would regret it.

Kitty and Sam looked at each other. Sam shrugged and gave a look of "leave it alone" to Kitty. But she wasn't so easily deterred.

"Well, I'm making it my business."

"What's next? Are you going to ask me for my hall pass?" he snidely asked. "Just because you're the X-Hero of the Day doesn't mean you impress me."

"You're not important enough to me to even want to impress," Kitty retaliated.

"What's going on?" Bobby and Rogue appeared from the top of the stairs and slowly made their way down. They too were clothed in jeans and t-shirts.

"Dammit. Doesn't anybody sleep?" Julian groaned. His plan was slowly disintegrating and there was nothing he could do about it.

Kitty offered an explanation, "Ol' Keller here is trying to sneak off the grounds. Sam and I caught him in the act."

Sam added, "Well actually, we just happened to mosey around the corner—"

"Not now," Kitty interrupted. She turned her attention back to Julian and continued to interrogate him. "So where are you going? Did you get permission? And why are you going by yourself?"

Julian rolled his eyes. "Well, Nancy Drew, I'm going to Alkali Lake. And no one is going to stop me," he met Kitty's gaze with his own in an effort to back her down. But Kitty wasn't so easily scared. She stepped forward, challenging him to make a move.

Bobby felt his stomach drop at the mere mention of Alkali Lake. It was where they had lost Dr. Grey after narrowly escaping William Stryker's clutches. It was probably for that reason why Ororo had deemed it off-limits to all the students.

"So what are you going to do if we try to stop you? Fight us?" Kitty asked, her eyes locked with Julian's.

Julian smiled wickedly. "Care to test me, Pryde?"

Kitty took another challenging step toward Julian, leaving her only inches from his face. "I'll kick your—"

"What's out at the lake?" Sam asked, hoping to change the tone of the conversation. He really didn't want to see Kitty and Julian fight. But at the rate they were going, they would be in an all out brawl in less than two minutes.

_"Help me."_

Julian looked away, pushing the voice out of his head. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Rogue repeated with a tone of disbelief. "Julian, you don't understand." She thought about telling him how there had been nothing but loss at that lake. But a touch on the shoulder from Bobby calmed her.

"There's something I have to do," Julian replied, turning from Kitty and the others. "And none of you are going to stop me."

"If I can't stop you, then I'm going with you," Bobby replied, stopping Julian in his tracks.

Julian gave Bobby a withering glance. "I don't need you looming over me, team leader. Next thing I know, you'll want to hold my hand in the bathroom."

Julian turned again to leave, but heard Bobby step behind him. "I'm going. And trust me, you don't want to get into a fight in the hallway. You won't make it out of that door, and we'll all be grounded."

Julian weighed the options. His telekinesis was strong enough to toss them about, giving him enough time to leave and be on the road before they caught up. But they knew where he was going and the teachers would be alerted. The Blackbird would be there in no time and there was no way he would be able to find out the mystery behind the plea for help. Or he could simply let them go with him.

"Suit yourself," Julian replied over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Bobby, I'm going with you," Rogue said. Whatever Julian and Bobby were going to do at that lake, Rogue wouldn't be able to just sit back at the mansion and wait for them to return. Aside from being worried sick, she figured that if anything happened, she would be able to help.

She was glad when Bobby took her gloved hand and gave her a nod of approval.

"We're involved now. Don't think I'm just going to let you off the hook so easily, Keller." Kitty replied. "Sam and I are going too."

"Y' know, I could just mosey on back to my room, and—"

"You're going, Kentucky," Kitty overrode his trepidation.

The five teens walked into the garage, and Julian grabbed the keys for one of the several vehicles parked in the garage.

"I'm driving," Bobby announced as Julian telekinetically floated the keys over to him, not wanting to have another argument.

"Just don't crash," Julian said. "You know where the lake is?"

"Yeah," Bobby replied, remembering the last time he was there. "I do."

They clambered into the black X-plorer, as they had dubbed it, which was really a modified Ford Explorer. Much of the panel had been modified with the same technology that was aboard the Blackbird. A cloaking device, extensive GPS, and a mini-Cerebro had all been installed by Forge and Kurt.

Bobby pushed a hidden button right below the steering wheel, which activated a tracking device. He wasn't sure why, but he had a bad feeling about this whole situation. He figured that Dr. McCoy or Mr. Cassidy would check the computers and see the alarm, and quickly dispatch a team before something terrible happened.

Bobby hoped that nothing would come of this trip and that everything would be calm. But someone from the X-Men's past had a different fate intended for them.

III.

"Hey, anybody know where Sam and Kitty went? She told me to wait until they got back to start this movie," Jubilee asked. Several other students sat around on the couches, eagerly awaiting the next film.

It was Friday night, and since the staff didn't usually let them go out on Friday nights, Jubilee officially dubbed Fridays as movie night. Usually, Jubilee, Jono Starsmore, and Angelo Espinoza would go into Snow Valley to Dan's Videos and get a variety of movie requests. Nine times out of ten, they would get some kind of horror movie, which totally creeped Jubilee out.

This time, they had gotten all horror movies, and Jubilee wished she could just sink into the couch. Though she loved the exhalation after the plot was resolved, the path to getting there was way too full of suspense, blood, and screams for her taste. Still, Jubilee was right there on the couch as soon as the movie started, though she would regret it every time.

"Maybe they went to the bathroom," Noriko Ashida suggested.

"Or maybe an axe-wielding, mangled, flesh-eating, inbred killer got them," Angelo joked, wrapping his skin around his face while reaching out for Jubilee.

"Back up, Angelo, or taste fireworks," Jubilee made a small firework go off close to her hand with a soft _paf_.

"Ay, chica. No need to get all violent," Angelo grinned.

When the doorbell chimed deeply, Jubilee nearly jumped out of her skin.

Hoots of laughter followed from all except Jubilee, who continued to tell them there was nothing funny up until the time she opened the door. Then she was startled again.

A tall, black man stood before her, obviously well-built underneath his suit, wearing sunglasses, though it was clearly dark outside.

"Sorry for disrupting your evening. I need to speak to Ororo Munroe."

His deep, commanding voice set Jubilee on edge, but she pretended like she wasn't jumpy. "And who are you?" she tried to sound tough, but her voice faltered, eliciting a smile from the man.

"I'm Detective Lucas Bishop, N.Y.P.D."

"Hold on a sec," Jubilee replied.

Bishop expected her to close the door to personally run upstairs to find Ororo, but instead the girl left the door ajar and screamed for Ms. Munroe. Bishop shook his head and smiled as Jubilee returned to the door.

"She'll be here in like a sec," Jubilee replied, still regarding Bishop with a suspicious glare. Two seconds later, she was replaced by one of the most beautiful women Bishop had ever seen. Her captivating blue eyes told of strength and stability, while her posture was nothing short of graceful. But her movements also told of a hidden warrior, able to take down any foe, regardless of size. Her skin was flawless and smooth, her lips full.

"Good evening, Detective. What brings you to our school at this time of night?"

Bishop scanned her over quickly, then whipped out his badge. Once Ororo had gotten a full look at his identification, he slipped it back into his coat pocket and said, "Sorry for disturbing you so late at night. But something's happened."

He glanced toward the living room, where the teens were clearly staring and listening. When they caught Bishop's glance, they pretended as if they were intrigued by the ceiling.

Ororo caught the hint. She stepped outside, closing the door. She began to walk away from the mansion with Bishop at a leisurely pace, hoping that the news he brought with him wasn't as bad as she was anticipating.

"I wanted to come to you first before you saw it on the news," Bishop began. "There's no delicate way to put this. There was a massacre. A mutant massacre. The mutants known as the Morlocks, were brutally torn apart at the Sea Breeze."

"I...I don't understand. Who would have done such a thing?"

"That's where we need your help. It's undeniable that this was done by another mutant. And from eye witness accounts, mainly some pedestrians walking by, there were four assailants. Mutants." Bishop pulled a digital camera from his coat pocket. He pressed a few buttons, which resounded with a barely audible beep, then handed it to Ororo. "There was a message left."

Ororo felt her stomach drop and churn at the picture before her. "By the bright lady," she murmured. Pictures of mangled and torn bodies strewn all over what she presumed to be the Sea Breeze. The last picture was going to be hard to erase from her memory. Scrawled in blood across the wall was the message: Only the strong.

"Our forces don't have the connections you do, Ms. Munroe. We need the X-Men's help."

"Understood. I appreciate you bringing this information to me tonight. Can you send me a copy of these pictures for analysis. With your permission, we would also like to investigate the crime scene."

"No problem. Your involvement in this investigation is greatly appreciated. You've done a lot for the city already."

"It's no problem, Detective."

Ororo stayed strong until Bishop had left the premises, but as soon as his taillights disappeared behind the gate, her head fell and she closed her eyes, having to catch her breath. She couldn't believe that something so terrible had happened. And there were so many questions. She already knew there was more to the situation than met the eye. She only hoped that they weren't already in over their heads.

IV.

As Ororo made her way back to the mansion, Remy melted back into the shadows as the natural instinct of a thief took over. He crouched low and sat silently, his breathing shallow and soundless. His muscles were relaxed, but ready to move at the slightest provocation, in the event that he was somehow discovered.

Though he heard Ororo's footsteps pause for a moment, she didn't spot him. She continued on into the mansion, shutting the door behind her. Remy sprung from his spot in the shrubs and dashed around the side of the mansion. From inside his shirt, he pulled out a collapsed staff, which at the flick of the wrist, extended into a full length staff. Remy effortlessly vaulted into a tree, leaped from one branch to another, then dove into his window, rolling into a standing position.

With another flick, his staff collapsed into a six inch long stick, which Remy tossed on his bed.

A mutant massacre. That's what the police were calling it. And that's what it would be called in the papers tomorrow.

There was no mistake—Sinister was somehow involved. His gut told him that somehow, the enigmatic man had enlisted the aid of wayward, powerful mutants to do his dirty work. But what would he possibly achieve from killing the Morlocks?

The Morlocks, from what Remy knew, were nothing more than self-proclaimed outcasts. Some with mutations that were physically disfiguring. Others with social anxieties or other issues coupled with exotic mutations. Regardless, aside from the usual rabble-rousing of mutant groups, they were harmless. Unless they were rallied by a madman like Magneto.

Yet, all of them had been mercilessly killed. And there was no apparent reason that Remy could think of. But then again, when did lunacy require a reason? Though Remy dismissed the notion at first, he finally came to the conclusion that Sinister wasn't what he seemed. And any promises he had made to Remy were more than likely null and void.

He knew he had to confront Sinister and somehow absolve himself of what he had done. He led Sinister right to the Morlocks, just because of Sinister's promises to help him. But that was before he met Xavier. Still, Remy couldn't afford for anyone at the school to find out.

He would wait until the time was right to make his move. And when he did, Remy would make sure Sinister answered for this.

Notes:

Michael Mjnari is based on the X-Men cartoon character Mjnari, who was Ororo's godson. He was possessed by the Shadow King, but in the end, Ororo, with the help of Rogue, was able to save him.

Nancy Drew is a detective heroine, created by Carolyn Keene. She has been paired with the Hardy Boys throughout the years.


	8. Chapter 8

I.

Charles rubbed his temples as a barrage of scenes suddenly assaulted his psyche. A black Ford Explorer. Bobby Drake, Kitty Pryde, Rogue, Sam Guthrie, and Julian Keller. Alkali Lake. Something deep under the water. Jean Grey.

_"Help me."_

The images vanished just as quickly as they had come, leaving Charles disoriented only for a moment. But he wasn't surprised. He realized that he couldn't stay here. His students needed him now more than ever. However, Charles didn't know how he could approach them now, after all this time of thinking he was dead.

Charles wheeled over to the window and gazed out at the night sky. The stars twinkled and shone brightly, appearing close enough to touch. Yet, despite how close he felt to them, he knew they would always be out of reach. He hoped that his students weren't the same.

A knock startled Charles from his thoughts. "Come in."

He wasn't surprised to sense Erik as he stepped into the room. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

"Still reading minds without permission?"

Charles turned toward Erik. "I don't have to read your mind to know your intentions. Now that the cure has worn off, you're heading back to reclaim your pursuit of mutant supremacy at the cost of human welfare."

Erik took a condescending breath. "Your passive, lofty dream of equality did nothing but nearly get you killed. Yet, you still cling to it. You are a fool, Charles. I never should have expected you to change your mind. But then again, you know things that I don't. Like your death, isn't that right?"

Charles felt his jaw tighten instantly, but said nothing.

"Irene Adler. A mutant with an interesting power—the ability to foresee the most probable events given the current course of actions." Erik absently began to pace, punctuating his words with deliberate body language. "Though the slightest variation can change the future, her predictions have never been far off. Ms. Adler, works here on Muir Island with Moira, and despite your apparent desire to wield your powers in the noblest fashion, you are but human and couldn't help but to chance a small glimpse into the future."

Charles settled back in his wheelchair and crossed his hands.

"I'm sure that you not only saw your death, but the deaths of Jean and Scott too, isn't that right?" Erik knew Charles wouldn't answer. Erik continued, "You, dear Charles, you hoped you could save them. You tried to help Jean, even though you knew that it would cost you your life. And now you're here, alive because of the failsafe plan you put in place to account for this whole incident. And I'm here, complete with my powers, able to bring you back from the dead, because you knew the cure wasn't permanent."

"I did not need Irene to tell me that. I suspected the cure would eventually wear off, but we didn't have enough time to study it thoroughly, and neither did Mr. Worthington and his team of scientists. They attempted to rewrite mutant DNA, but nature isn't something that science can easily override."

Erik shook his head. "No, it is not. But then again, we defy nature with our very existence. And we wield powers that allow us to control even our own life and death, like you. By all counts you should be dead. But despite your high horse, in the end, you're human. Self-preservation, a fundamental instinct of all animals. Humans especially. And you're no different."

"No, I guess I'm not, Erik," Charles replied, his voice a whisper, but strong and confident. "I know what I did. And now, I'll face whatever consequences my "death" brought. Then, I will continue to fulfill my dream of equality between mutants and humans alike. What do you plan on doing with your second chance? Or should I simply call you Magneto again?"

"Make no mistake, old friend, just as you are dedicated to the future you see, I am as well. You are willing to put everything, even your own life on the line for that dream. Never doubt that my resolve is the same. I'm glad you are alive, but next time we see each other, we will be on opposite sides of the battlefield. And I cannot guarantee your well-being if you stand in my way."

"It doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to be enemies. But you have chosen your path. And I've chosen mine."

"Next time, I won't be here to rescue you from the dead," Erik gave a courteous nod and a slight smile, before turning and leaving without a second glance back.

A video screen on the opposite wall powered on, illuminating the room with Moira's visage. "Charles, Erik is gone."

"I know. Moira, please have a jet prepared. I'm heading back to the school tonight."

"Aye. I'll have Rahne make the preparations. Are y' sure about this?"

Charles closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his face was set in an expression of newfound resolve. "Yes, it's time."

II.

"Umm, I hate to ask this, but are we there yet?" Kitty leaned forward from the back seat, escaping the narrow space between Julian and Sam. Julian was getting on her nerves acting all strange as if he heard something the rest of them couldn't. Sam was being fidgety like he had never been in a moving vehicle before. If she spent another second between them, Kitty knew she would lose it.

"Almost. We're going to have to go on foot for a portion of the way. The lake is set back from the road. It's about a ten-minute walk."

Rogue shifted in her seat, her gaze locked on Bobby. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we're not supposed to be out here. Storm said this place was off-limits."

Bobby remembered Storm's warning well. It was the most stern he had ever seen her. Then, Bobby never thought that they would ever have to disobey Storm's adamant warning. However, he realized that not only were they pursuing something none of them had any idea about, but they were breaking rules to figure it out. Maybe they wouldn't be in too much trouble. Maybe.

"No," Bobby frankly answered. "It probably isn't. But this is for Julian. Maybe if he just goes out there, it will stop whatever's going on in his head. We couldn't let him come out here by himself."

"Whatever, Drake. You and your goodie-two-shoes teammates were being nosy. I would have been fine by myself. And I probably wouldn't have gotten caught. Thanks to you guys, there's no way in hell we're not going to get found out."

Kitty's face contorted in anger. "You act like you're so cool. You're not an X-Man. You can't just do whatever you want."

"And you're not a teacher, so you can't lord over me like you're something special, Pryde. You guys think you're such hot stuff because you beat up on Magneto's goons. Given the chance, any one of the rest of us could've done the same thing."

"Would you have been able to kill your own teammate?" Rogue snapped.

The vehicle fell silent.

She continued, "I don't know what you're problem is, but the chip on your shoulder bit is getting old. Fast. You dragged us out here—"

"You followed me."

"—in the middle of the night to a place that we're not supposed to go. You could at least show a little kindness."

"She needs help," Julian firmly stated. "I'm going to help her. I don't care whether you're tagging along or not."

_Her?_ Bobby felt a sense of dread build in the pit of his stomach. Alkali Lake. A _she_ calling out to Julian telepathically. Sneaking out in the middle of the night. Nothing was adding up to a good situation.

"As the new kid on the block, I sure don't understand what's wrong with the lake," Sam stated.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Dr. Grey was one of our teachers and a member of the team. After they stopped Stryker's and Magneto's attempts to kill mutant and humans, they escaped to the Blackbird. We were all in the Blackbird, stuck in the valley, when the dam broke. Dr. Grey protected us—she held back the rushing water while she powered the Blackbird to help us escape. As we took off, the water crashed over her. She was gone."

Rogue and Bobby made eye contact, remembering the painful moments that lingered for months.

Kitty chimed in with the rest of the story. "Ororo and Logan found Jean on the shoreline of Alkali Lake and brought her back to the mansion. But something had happened to her. She had lost control of her powers. She killed Scott Summers and Professor Xavier."

The harshness of hearing someone say that Dr. Grey, one of their favorite teachers, mercilessly killed someone hit a nerve with Bobby, but he didn't say anything.

"In the end, she managed to regain control long enough for Logan to help her," Kitty trailed off, unsure of how to make Julian understand that Logan killed Jean for the greater good.

"Help her?" Sam repeated, unsure of where the story was going.

Rogue turned around in her seat. "He killed her. They knew the only way to save the world was to kill their own teammate. One of us."

"I—I didn't know," Sam quietly said, understanding the pain of losing someone close.

"That's why it's off limits," Kitty concluded. "It holds a lot of painful memories."

"Julian, do you know who is calling out to you?"

Julian shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that her pleas are getting weaker. If we don't get there soon, she may die."

III.

When Scott Summers regained consciousness, he was no longer isolated in a fluid-filled tank, cut off from the rest of the world. He was lying in a bed, naked, covered with a simple dark blue sheet. Scott felt his ruby quartz glasses covering his eyes, protecting the room from his crimson optic blasts. He sat up, gathering his bearings. Scott's eyes quickly settled on a set of clothes on a chair next to his bed. No, not clothes. A uniform.

A tight-fitting, armored, sleeveless shirt, dark fitted pants, dark boots. Scott slipped them on then put on the gloves, gold accessory belt, left arm armor, partial right forearm armor, and switched his glasses for a gold visor. He found a full-length mirror and gave himself a quick once-over.

Something should have clicked, but it didn't. Scott left the room without a second thought to the mysterious clothes or his current location. He maneuvered through the hallways has if he had done it hundreds of times, taking a flight of stairs down, and ending up in a laboratory.

Sinister looked up from a monitor on the other side of the room. "Ahhh, Scott," Sinister grinned, "it seems you're awake. How do you feel?"

Scott felt as though he was swimming in a fog, as if his body was responding on its own, completely separate from his mind. "I'm fine."

He noted the cold, unemotional tone in his own voice.

"Good. Now, my pet, you and your brother are going to serve me well. And the first mission I'm going to give you is to lead the Horsemen and kidnap Bobby Drake and Jean Grey. Bring them back here, and use lethal force if you need to."

Scott found it strange that at the mention of Jean Grey, his heart didn't flutter and his blood didn't race. He felt nothing, only a desire to fulfill Sinister's wish. What was wrong with him? What had happened? But even as he asked himself these questions, the thick fog washed over his mind again and erased his inquiries. Though he tried to fight to hold onto something, it all slipped away.

He remembered nothing.

"Understood," he replied. He pressed a button on the side of his visor, which activated his radio. "Horsemen, report to the briefing room immediately. We've got a job to do."

Sinister smiled as Scott turned and walked away. Scott was going to serve him well as his new pet.

IV.

"There's no one here, so we can go, right?" Kitty asked Bobby. The five teens—Bobby, Kitty, Julian, Rogue, and Sam—walked carefully along the edge of the lake.

Though no one said anything, they could feel something in the air. It was heavy and thick, not because of the rolling mist, but there was something else there. Besides that, it was deathly silent—no breeze, no waves, no midnight owl hoots or cricket chirps. The silence itself was ominous and Bobby instantly regretted coming here.

"I don't like this. There's something weird out here," Rogue whispered to Bobby. He was glad that someone else was feeling uneasy about this, but it also added to his feeling that they shouldn't have come.

But Julian didn't seem to notice. His attention was solely on the lake. He peered into the dark, undulating lake, knowing that somewhere below, a woman lie waiting for someone to help her. As if in a trance, Julian continued to walk away from his teammates and walked out onto the pier.

_"Please, help me."_

Her voice was much softer, a pleading whisper, in contrast to earlier when she first asked for help. Julian was positive it was an indication that she was weakening. "She's down there," Julian said, the cool wind carrying his voice to his friends scattered on the beach.

Kitty glared at Bobby. "Why in the hell did you let Keller drag us all the way out here? No one is here asking for help. It's just the lake and us."

Bobby sighed, his body resigning to Kitty's statement. "You're right. Hey Julian, we should probably head back. I don't think there's anyone out here," Bobby called, but trailed off as he watched Julian at the edge of the pier. Julian's eyes were locked on the lake as he stared down into the shadowy water. His lips moved quietly, as if he was talking to someone in the lake. Bobby watched curiously as Julian slowly extended his arms to the side and closed his eyes in concentration.

Sam scratched his head. "What in the world is he doing?"

"I don't know," Bobby replied uncertainly. He watched as the once clam water moved slightly, sending ripples across the reflective surface. The ripples soon became waves, and those waves began to crash on the lake's edge.

"Hey, Julian, what're you trying to do?" Kitty shouted.

"She's trapped at the bottom of the lake. I'm going to set her free."

"You can't hold that much water back," Kitty countered.

"Who said I was going to do it alone, Pryde? She's helping."

Bobby felt a chill run down his spine. "Who's helping you?" he quietly asked, secretly not wanting to know the answer.

"It's simple. We can combine our telekinesis—between the two of us, we can hold back the water."

_Combine their telekinesis?_ Bobby repeated to himself. The only other telekinetic he knew was Dr. Grey, but that was impossible. She was killed by Logan after being possessed by a darker side of her power. And she had been buried, right next to Scott Summers and Professor Xavier. She couldn't possibly be under the lake, could she?

Things were getting way too weird and out of hand, and at this point, Bobby really didn't want to know what was below the lake.

"Julian, you've got to stop this," Bobby said as he stepped closer. He nearly lost his balance as the world suddenly lurched beneath his feet. He looked and saw the pier rocking and coming apart at every possible spot. He caught a glimpse of Julian, who was now lifting himself into the air, his arms outstretched and legs straight down, resembling a rising cross.

Bobby caught his balance and saw the lake suddenly churn with life. The calm water now crashed upon itself. It bubbled and swirled violently then the water suddenly organized and had direction. It began to move away from itself right in the middle. Bobby couldn't believe it. Julian was parting the lake. But what would they find at the bottom? He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

Suddenly, Bobby was thrown off the pier into the swirling lake.

"Bobby!" Rogue screamed. Without thinking, she took flight with a streamlined approach right toward Bobby. "Bobby, reach for my hand!" she commanded over the rushing water. Bobby flailed for only a moment, but they locked hands then suddenly, he was no longer thrashing through the heavy water. He was being carried through the air with ease, sailing just above the lake. Then they were on the beach.

"We've got to stop Julian!" Kitty said, not out of petty dislike, but out of genuine concern.

Before Bobby could reply, he heard Julian shout, "I found her! She's here at the bottom of the lake!"

"I've got this one," Sam said as he launched forward like a rocket, a burst of thermal flame trailing him and completely enveloping his lower body. He sailed past Julian, who continued to hold the water at bay, but a glance at his face showed how much it was taking a toll on him. Sam prayed that he could hold it long enough for Sam to scoop up the mysterious woman at the bottom of the lake.

Now a human rocket, Sam dove straight down, amazed at the walls of water on either side. Sam was instantly reminded of an oceanarium he visited on a school field trip. Even then, he imagined the aquariums somehow breaking and rushing water carrying him and his classmates though the hallways and out the front door. And now, that same feeling came over Sam, except this time, the vision wasn't so far fetched and instead of being carried out the front door, he would be lost to the dark depths of Alkali Lake.

Sam pushed those thoughts out of his mind and focused on getting to the bottom of the lake. He angled himself, traveling at least seventy-five feet below the surface of the lake then finally settled gliding only a few feet from the sandy bottom. He had about ten feet on either side of him, which he swore was decreasing by the second.

He almost gave up, when he spotted a figure.

She was lying peacefully on her back, hovering about a foot off the ground. Her shoulder-length red hair stirred as if she were still suspended in the water. Her hands were by her sides and her body was flat as if lying upon a table. She was in an outfit that resembled the ones he had seen the instructors in during training sessions, which meant that at one time, she was an X-Man.

Sam slowed down to a stop right next to her, stepping carefully on the sandy lake floor. "Excuse me, Miss?" Sam timidly said. Though her chest moved, indicating she was breathing, her fair face didn't flinch at all. Sam thought that she would have been alive and kicking since she was the one calling out to Julian. But she lay there, unmoving and silent.

Sam gently touched her shoulder, hoping to wake her up, but she still didn't move. As he looked down at her, he saw about two inches of water wash over his boot. Julian was losing his hold on the lake—the water was seeping through his telekinetic hold. And unless he hurried, he and the woman would be stuck under the lake.

Settling on the fact that the woman, whoever she might be, wasn't going to wake up, Sam reached forward and carefully draped the woman's limp arm around his shoulders and snaked his own hand around her waist.

"Hold on tight, Miss," he said as he launched straight up into the air. He looked down to see the water filling the crevice as fast as he flew up. Julian had totally lost control and now, Sam and the unnamed woman were in danger of being crushed by the icy water. But Sam wasn't going to allow it. Not while he had a breath still in him.

He pushed forward, gritting his teeth, hoping that in saving the woman, he didn't accidentally hurt her. But he figured anything was better than being trapped back under the water. But then, the worse happened.

The water crashed in from the top, right onto Sam and his passenger, as up above, Julian lost consciousness and tumbled from the sky.

"Julian!" Rogue screamed. "Sam!"

Bobby leapt into action. He ran forward then created a thin layer of ice, solid enough to hold his weight and smooth enough for him to slide on. He coated the bottom of his shoes with a layer of ice as well, effectively creating an ice slide. He sped along, watching Julian tumble slowly through the air. His telekinesis was still active, which gave Bobby a few more seconds than normal.

Bobby took a daring leap and caught Julian in mid-air, spun a few times, then created another ice slide, just above the water. Behind him, he heard an explosion from the lake. Turning slightly, he saw Sam, with a woman draped around his arms, burst from the lake and arc toward the beach.

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief as Sam slowed and finally came to a rest back on the beach. Bobby slid next to him, laying Julian on the ground. Kitty and Rogue were there already, both still reeling over everything that had just happened. But as Bobby looked at the woman Sam saved, he felt just as flustered and confused.

"So who is she?" Sam asked.

Before anyone could answer, the Blackbird appeared over the tree line, made a wide, sweeping turn then landed vertically, much like a helicopter, despite being a jet. Barely on the ground, the door opened and out flew Sean Cassidy, prefaced by his sonic scream. Kurt Wagner, flipped out of the Blackbird, disappeared in a purple cloud and a flash with a _bamf_ sound and reappeared next to the teens. Ororo Munroe, Storm, was last, a wind current carrying her gracefully to the students.

"What are you doing out here?" Ororo said to all of them, but especially to Bobby. But she thought twice about her ire when she saw how ashen his face was and how he opened his mouth to answer but couldn't. Instead she followed his gaze to the individuals lying on the ground.

The first was Julian Keller, but he stirred and moaned, so he wasn't hurt badly. But she froze as she saw the person lying next to him.

Bobby, finally able to access his voice, said, "She was under the lake. Julian said he heard her so we came out here."

Ororo couldn't believe her eyes. "Jean?"

Notes:

None.


	9. Chapter 9

I.

"I want answers and I want them now," Ororo's stern gaze drifted from face to face, feeling that one second of silence was much too long. Her normally calm blue eyes flashing, Ororo managed to keep her emotions neutral as to not disrupt the perfect night outside.

She settled on Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty. They were the experienced students. They were the X-Men. They should've known better than to run off fool-heartedly and mess with something none of them quite understood. On top of that, they endangered not only themselves, but they could have hurt Jean—no, that woman in the med bay that looked like Jean. Or worse—they could have been seriously hurt.

"Ms. Munroe," Sam's southern accent cut through the heavy silence. "We only wanted to help. We didn't do anything wrong, did we?"

Ororo crossed her arms. "Not only did you leave the grounds without permission, you took it upon yourselves to investigate a volatile and dangerous situation. Without consulting any of us. Now, Julian is recovering in the med bay, and we are not sure of the extent of his injuries. Luckily, none of the rest of you were hurt. But luck does not last forever."

Logan sat against a far bookcase, almost in the shadows, arms crossed, watching the entire scene. He began to interject, but a silencing glance from Ororo made him change his mind.

"All of you are restricted to the premises until further notice, is that understood?"

That elicited a response.

All of them began talking at once. Ororo could make out "that's not fair" and "it wasn't that serious" and "we didn't do anything that you wouldn't have done." She held up a hand to silence the barrage of complaints she was being showered with.

"We shall talk about it tomorrow morning. Right now, I think we all need some rest." Her expression left no room for argument, and the four students piled out, grumbles of disapproval and glances to Logan for help went out the door with them. With a well-placed breeze, Ororo shut the door.

"You're being overprotective," Logan stated.

"Not now." She walked to her desk and sat down, cupping her hands and placing her chin on them. After a few minutes of thinking, glad that Logan respected the silence, she looked at him and replied, "So you're saying it is acceptable for them to run off and do whatever they want, unmindful of the consequences?"

"Would you have reprimanded me, Hank, or Warren in the same way?"

"Yes," Ororo said without a moment of hesitation. "Against my better judgment, I allowed Warren to investigate alone, and now he is missing. Julian Keller is in the infirmary, unconscious, because they tampered with something none of us really understand. And now that woman—"

"Jean," Logan corrected.

"That's not Jean," she harshly replied.

Immediately, she had a flashback to Alcatraz.

Ororo watched from afar as Logan pierced Jean's midsection and she toppled into his arms, the telekinetic maelstrom dying along with Jean. Then she was gone, again. And this time, there was no way she was coming back. Or so she thought. Now, in the med day, secluded from Julian Keller, was a woman with the same fair skin, same fiery red hair, still dressed in their X-Men leathers, unconscious and under strict surveillance.

She pushed the painful memory of Jean draped in Logan's arms, limp and lifeless, from her mind, instead, letting her anger surface. "I watched her die in your arms, Logan. There is no telling who that woman is, or who she will be when she wakes up. We did not make the right choices before, but I shall make them now."

Logan frowned and stepped into the light. "You can't change the past, 'Ro," Logan replied, keeping his voice neutral, despite his growing concern for both Ororo, Jean, and the kids. "Did they mess up? Yeah, they broke a few rules, but we can't keep them chained up inside this damn school. They won't be students forever."

Ororo had a similar conversation with Charles before. Only Logan's words were the ones coming from her lips. How ironic. The wild card of the group, who thought the kids would never be ready, was lecturing her on letting them go.

Sighing, Ororo leaned against her desk. "Logan, you even said yourself that they are not ready."

Logan smirked. "And if I suddenly started singin' praises about their performance, I think you'd have me checked out."

Ororo fought back a smile, but the feeling quickly passed, as she remembered Warren's disappearance and Jean's reemergence, if that woman truly was Jean. Before Ororo could counter Logan's argument, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she looked past Logan and watched Emma Frost step through the doorway. Emma had an odd expression on her face that Ororo couldn't read. "Is something wrong? Has something happened?"

Emma's peculiar expression did not falter. "No. I have someone here that wanted to see you. He's an old friend."

Alarms immediately went off in her head. She didn't have any "old friends" that knew about her existence here at Xavier's. Most of her friends and family were still in Egypt, and would have let her know if they were coming. No, there was something odd about this situation.

Ororo gave Logan a sideways glance, reading his body language. He stood erect, his face already in an expression of disbelief and surprise. Whoever it was, Logan could smell them...and there was no telling whether they were friend or foe.

Before Ororo could say anything else, Emma stepped farther into the room, and a wheelchair followed her. Once her eyes fell upon the individual in the wheelchair, Ororo stood, not believing her own eyes. Logan, his eyes now in tune with his keen sense of smell, took the cigar out of his mouth, and he stared at the man sitting before them.

Ororo blinked, positive that her eyes were deceiving her. But if it was Mystique or some kind of shapeshifter, Logan would have sprung into action immediately. His reaction told her that what she was seeing was true, despite the impossibility of it.

The man in the wheelchair spoke. "I know what you're thinking, and I can assure you that I am indeed Charles Xavier."

"Charles?" Ororo whispered, holding back tears of joy. Her body reacted before her mind caught up as she ran over and draped her arms around him. She then pulled back, studying him.

He still had the same baldness, the same hawk-like features, the same fatherly tone and smile. Everything told her it was Charles, but she couldn't help but hesitate to fully believe that the Professor was before them once again. Because if he could return, then there was the slight possibility that the woman downstairs was Jean Grey. And Ororo couldn't bring herself to accept that.

"I...I don't understand. How...?"

She noticed Logan out of the corner of her eye, come closer, his surprise echoed in his body language.

Charles smiled at both of them. "It's a story that everyone deserves to hear, don't you think?"

Ororo nodded. "Emma..."

"I'm already on it. I'm excluding the students and summoning everyone else here." Emma placed a hand to her temple, a physical gesture of the utilization of her telepathic powers. Though really unnecessary, most telepaths did something similar when communicating with their minds.

It was only a matter of minutes before Hank McCoy, Sean Cassidy, and Kurt Wagner were sitting around the office, having already drowned Charles with questions and hugs. Seeing that everyone had calmed down, Charles explained the whole process of transferring his mind, the cloned body on Muir Island, and Moira's and Erik's role in bringing him back to the land of the living.

Once the story was done, everyone sat in silence.

"Fascinating," Hank mused as he sat back in his chair. Charles could tell that his mind was quickly processing and tearing apart the technical aspects of the story, applying his vast medical and technical knowledge to recreate the intricate, untold details of the story.

"I should have contacted you sooner," Charles added. "But I had to wait until the time was right."

"Well, this wasn't exactly the best time to make a dramatic appearance, Charles," Emma commented. "Warren's been missing, the Morlocks were massacred, one of the students is in the infirmary, and then there's Jean—"

"I can brief him on the details," Ororo icily interjected. Her glare made it apparently clear that she did not appreciate Emma's blunt retelling of issues that were much more complex than she relayed. And she was sure Emma was somehow indirectly attacking her ability to run the school. Ororo decided she would talk to Emma about it later.

"Jean?" Charles repeated, now uneasy. He thought that he had made it back in time to avert a possible situation, but it seemed as though he was too late.

Kurt explained, "The students went to Alkali Lake. When we got there, they were on the beach. Julian Keller was unconscious and they were with an unconscious woman that looks just like Jean Grey."

Charles said nothing. He knew exactly what happened, yet he had to see her for himself to ensure that his hypothesis was true. "So, what happened to Jean?"

Painfully, Ororo retold of the events after Charles "death."

At the end, Charles said, "I'm sorry that things ended the way they did. The choices we sometimes have to make are never easy."

"It was a choice we shouldn't have had to make," Logan shot.

"Logan!" Ororo snapped. She felt the tide of the conversation suddenly shift for the worse. It was turning into the conversation that she knew would inevitably arise, but it definitely the wrong time. Though she had many questions herself, she would have rather waited until much later to address them.

Charles calmly replied, "I chose to help Jean in the manner I did, and I wouldn't change that anymore today as I would tomorrow. You helped Jean by killing her. You felt that was the only choice."

Having known Jean much longer than Logan, Hank thought of interjecting, but then thought twice about it. Much like Ororo, Hank knew that this conversation would occur. Whether it was Logan, Ororo, or him, someone would demand an explanation of Xavier's actions. Though their methods would all be different, the explanation would be the same, so Hank figured that it was better to just wait to see what the outcome of the conversation would be.

"It was Jean's choice," Logan's eyes flared and met Charles's.

And Charles met Logan's gaze with the same ferocity.

Logan felt untamed fury building up. He knew that he was being selfish and irrational, but he had to let out what he had held to himself over the past several months. And though Logan was beyond overjoyed at Charles's return, the weight of Jean's death overshadowed it by far.

"And I gave Jean a chance to live, free of having to decide whether she was better off living or dead."

A low growl escaped from Logan.

Despite realizing he was sending Logan over the edge, Charles continued to bombard him with unforgiving words. "Your own selfishness blinded you. If only you had listened when I told you, Jean wouldn't have had to die."

Logan would have been less stricken if Charles had miraculously risen to his feet and slapped him in the face. The fury had boiled over so much that Logan stood numb and speechless.

"That's enough," Ororo's voice was quiet, sad. But she left no room for another word to be spoken. "Charles, I pray that this is not what you came back for. Though I am relieved that you are alive, I will not stand by and allow old wounds to be reopened. I think we all should get some rest."

The atmosphere was uncomfortable at best as Logan stormed out of the room. Hank, Kurt, Sean, and Emma all spoke to Charles briefly, the exchange between him and Logan still at the forefront of their minds. Despite that, they all were genuinely glad for Charles to be back and told him so. Charles made an attempt to apologize, but they weren't having it. They wished him a good night and left, leaving Ororo and Charles alone.

Ororo stood by the window, looking out into the night sky. "We spend our days fighting the world and our nights fighting each other. When will it end?" Ororo turned from the window and for the first time, allowed someone to see a tear fall. "These past months have been difficult, Charles. And this has not made it any easier."

Charles resisted the temptation to touch her mind, to ease her sadness. Ororo was his strongest, most stable students, and he respected her for that. A woman after his own heart. But she was private, just like Charles was, with her emotions and inner feelings. To see her upset bothered Charles more deeply than any rage Logan could possibly display.

"This wasn't how I wanted it to be. All I've been consumed with is concern for all of you, including Jean. I couldn't simply stay on Muir Island while you were fighting for my dream. I made choices that I felt were in all of your best interests. I never want any of you to believe contrary to that. Logan needed to understand that. He needs to trust me. You all need to trust me."

Ororo crossed the room to the door, giving Charles a final glance. "Trust is not so easily given. We've lost so much already...can you really expect for everyone to simply trust anyone that appears on our doorstep? Though you were once our guiding light, even you will have to figure out how to regain our trust."

She bid him goodnight and left Charles alone in his old office. As she walked down the hallway reflecting on her conversation with Charles, she realized that like Logan, Ororo didn't feel quite the same about Charles.

II.

"Ms. Munroe is a jerk!"

Kitty Pride spun on her heel and pointed at Bobby as if he resembled Ororo in some fashion. Her dark brown eyes flickered with defiance and auburn hair tumbled about her face and shoulders, making her appear that much more upset.

Despite Kitty's outburst, the others remained silent. The others included Sam Guthrie, Bobby Drake, Rogue, and Dani Moonstar. Dani had heard Kitty ranting from down the hall and came to see what was going on. They sat in contemplative silence while Kitty paced around, grumbling about things not being fair and them being treated like kids.

The light midnight breeze fluttering through the thin drapes did nothing to cool Kitty's ire. The chirping crickets and other soothing night sounds fell on deaf ears as Kitty stopped pacing and looked at everyone in the room. She was hoping that Bobby would say something, anything to make her feel better. But they just simply locked eyes for a moment too long, and Kitty looked away, her anger overshadowing her embarrassment.

"So, you guys got grounded," Dani concluded.

Rogue nodded. "I still can't believe that she was so angry with us. We didn't do anything wrong."

"We had our doubts," Bobby said standing. He faced everyone and said, "We knew that we were messing with something dangerous, and Rogue and I even talked about how we shouldn't have gone. But in the end, we did what we thought was right and that's what we're taught isn't it?"

"What happened at the lake?" Dani asked.

Bobby locked eyes with Rogue, knowing that the same thing was going through her mind. Should they tell the others that they found Dr. Grey? They deserved to know, right? But then again, everyone knew what happened. They heard about how Jean had killed Professor Xavier and Scott Summers. Maybe it was better if they just kept it quiet for the time being.

"Nothing," Bobby responded much too quickly, much too awkwardly. Lying wasn't his forte.

Dani raised a suspicious eyebrow but didn't press the issue. She noticed Kitty's telltale expression, which immediately told her they were hiding something. They must have had a good reason, so Dani changed the subject.

"You know, Ms. Munroe's godson is visiting the school. Maybe he can smooth things over for you guys."

Kitty turned her nose up at the idea. "Whatever. He'll probably try lecture us too."

"I'm not in the business of lecturing people unless they deserve it," Michael Mjnari stood just outside of the doorway. Still dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, Michael stepped into the room waiting for Kitty to reply. He didn't have to wait long.

"But you obviously are in the business of eavesdropping," Kitty quipped.

"Only when my name comes up in random, loud conversations." Michael glanced around the room and noticed that they all were the students Forge had told him about on the way from the airport.

Michael was surprised. He expected something to be obviously different about them, like Dr. McCoy. With his blue fur, oversized hands and feet, and feral-like features, it was a glaring fact that Dr. Hank McCoy was a mutant. But these students looked like normal kids in high school. But then again, there was nothing outwardly odd about Michael to indicate he was a mutant either. Still, he found himself wondering what power each of them concealed beneath their normal appearance.

They must have been wondering the same or something far worse about him. Michael noted the awkward way Kitty and a few of the others regarded him, which made him feel a little more than uncomfortable.

"Look, if you guys are having a secret X-Men meeting, then that's cool. I'll just—"

Bobby stood, flashing a friendly, class president smile. "No, we're not. I don't think we've met yet. I'm Bobby Drake."

"Michael Mjnari. Good to meet you. Forge told me about you guys. I was wondering when I was going to run into you."

"We had movie night downstairs, you could've joined us," Dani said.

"I didn't want to intrude. Besides, I was kind of tired from the flight." Michael helped himself to a chair by the door. "So what did you guys get grounded for? It's not like Ororo to get upset over nothing."

"You don't know her like we do," Kitty sourly replied.

"I am her godson, you know."

"We broke curfew," Rogue answered. Again, Dani detected that they were hiding something. And she smiled as the expression on Michael's face told her he didn't believe them either.

"Look, what are you guys hiding?" Dani asked. "No matter whether you tell us or Ms. Munroe tells us tomorrow, we're going to find out. Besides, everyone's already gossiping."

"Gossipin'?" Sam repeated, shocked at the idea.

Dani quietly chuckled at his exaggerated country accent coupled with his innocent, appalled tone. "I'm kidding, Sam."

"Look, let's talk about something else, okay?" Rogue spoke up. "It's been a long night, and the last thing I want to do is end it by talking about this over and over again."

"Fair," Michael said, not fully understanding what was so tragic about the evening. But he decided not to press any farther, though his curiosity was getting the better of him. "Sean's taking Remy, Jubilee, and I to the airport to pick up a new student tomorrow morning. I think his name is Josh Foley." Michael gave a half-smile, "You want me to pick anything up for you guys, since you are grounded and all."

"Ha. Ha," Kitty moaned. "You're getting off on a good foot with us, chuckles." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You should lighten up. Being angry all the time isn't really becoming." Michael stood, "I was just heading downstairs for a snack. Did you guys want anything?"

"Actually, sure, I'm starving," Sam said. Dani joined them.

It was only after Michael, Sam, and Dani were long gone that Bobby spoke. "Do you think that we found Dr. Grey?"

Kitty slammed her hand on the desk. "There's no way that she's Dr. Grey. We saw what happened on Alcatraz. We had a funeral for her. We had one for Mr. Summers. And another for Professor Xavier. They're all dead."

Though Kitty words were painfully true, Bobby couldn't help but to think and wish that somehow, some way, they were wrong about all three of them. The woman downstairs, though seemingly impossible, was Dr. Grey. And it would only be a matter of time before they found Professor Xavier and Mr. Summers.

There was no way that Bobby would know that in less than twenty-four hours, he would discover that he was right.

III.

Charles should have felt comfortable in his master bedroom. The lavish room was spared no luxury—Victorian furnishings, a large master bathroom suited for a king, a large balcony with a picturesque view of the countryside, and its own elevator to the underground floors. His bedroom had been left undisturbed, cleaned weekly, and his clothes were still in their proper place.

Despite all the familiarity around him, he was a stranger in his own home. He hadn't thought of the impact of everything that had happened. From Magneto's assault on Ellis Island, to Stryker's invasion of their home, to the recent events on Alcatraz—his students had been through a lot.

There were so many unanswered questions and unresolved feelings. Logan's outburst was only a small fraction of the torn emotions filling the mansion. Xavier, priding himself on being a problem-solver, wanted to fix it all. He wanted to ease their pain, dispel their doubts, and introduce them to a world of tranquility and comfort.

Yet, it was just a fantasy. That wasn't real life. There was pain. Tears. Hurt. Sadness. Loss. And all his students were learning each of things at an accelerated pace. And so far, Charles felt that he had done nothing but compound it all.

He wasn't sure what he expected, it had been totally the opposite of what happened tonight. Charles now doubted that the younger students would greet him with open arms. They, being much more emotional than the adults, would feel betrayed and confused. Maybe it would be better if he waited to see them. At least until he resolved the issues with his older students.

Charles's mind then wandered to Jean Grey. They had found her at the bottom of the lake, just as Xavier had guessed they would. But apparently, she hadn't awoken yet. Maybe she—

Charles reeled at the suddenly outburst of psychic energy.

Jean was awake.

Notes:

Warren Worthington III, Angel, disappeared in Chapter 1.

Now a classic scene, Kitty's scene with Bobby is taken from Uncanny X-Men #173, where Kitty, talking to Illyana Rasputin, shouts that Professor Xavier is a jerk.

Death06: Third time is a charm, right?

LastWhiteRose: First of all, thanks for the review. The teenage characters that appear in this story are actually characters from various current and past X-titles (i.e. New X-Men and Generation X). Michael Mjnari is a character taken from the 1990's X-Men cartoon. And yes, the Four Horsemen are the ones that killed the Morlocks. Angel and the others have been converted. And they should be making another appearance quite soon.

Cassandra581: I appreciate the praise! And you may get to see Cyclops face off against his old comrades quite soon.

BlackIceAngel: Sam and Jay, being brothers, lost their father in a mining accident when they were younger.


	10. Chapter 10

I.

Jean Grey found herself floating in an infinite void. There was no sense of direction, no sounds, and no other light aside from the faint amber glow cast by her own body.

On some level, Jean knew that she was on the astral plane. But somehow, she had been cut off from the world, isolated in this dark place, unable reach out to familiar minds. She had long given up trying to decipher if she was dead or alive, but regardless of her physical existence, her mind was alive and well. And trapped.

Just as Jean had finally gotten used to the idea of being in the dark and alone, Jean caught a glint out of the corner of her eye. At first, it was a glimmer the size of the head of a needle, but quickly expanded into a brilliant cascade of color, then in the next instant, stood floating in front of Jean, eradicating the darkness surrounding Jean.

Jean regarded this new entity carefully. She wasn't exactly sure where it had come from or why it was here suddenly, but there was something about it that seemed primal. Ancient. Hungry. Yet, Jean could feel curiosity and desire brimming on the edge of it all.

She quickly decided that whatever it was that now stood before her was dangerous on several different levels. But then again, it interested Jean, which bothered her. Jean felt that she should have been repulsed and horrified. Instead, she wanted to reach out to it. She wanted its power, its energy, and its passion.

Jean tore her eyes away, ashamed at her longing and surprised by her own reaction. When she felt the entity still standing there, waiting, Jean managed to look at it again. Then, in front of her eyes, it morphed into a mirror image of Jean.

Jean took a surprised step back, unsure of what was going to happen next. "What—what are you?" Her voice was breathy and betrayed her anxiety.

The other Jean smiled and cocked her head, as if seeing Jean for the first time. The question must have amused her because a slight chuckle escaped her lips. "I am you. And you are me."

Jean suddenly found it hard to swallow. "No, I'm not you. You're something else—you aren't supposed to be here."

"But you called to me, Jean. And I answered your call. I've been with you for most of your life. Since Annie died..."

The benefit and curse of being a psychic was being able to remember everything. And though Jean tried to tell herself time and time again that she didn't remember, she instantly went back in time to that day.

The warm afternoon. The Frisbee. A breeze that took it much higher than it should have gone. The car. Annie's catch. Her smile. The accident.

Jean turned away as the entire scene replayed all over again, ending with Annie's body lying in the street, bloody and broken.

"That day," Jean whispered. A tear trickled down her cheek as she relived her final psychic moments with Annie as she slipped away. "The light...it was...you?"

The other Jean simply smiled. "As I said, I am you. And you are me."

"No!" Jean exclaimed. "You...you're nothing but emotion and desire. Uncontrollable power. It's wrong." Jean found herself wondering why she was reacting so violently against this being. There was something that she couldn't quite recall...

"Wrong?" the other Jean repeated, genuinely confused at the word.

"Why? Why am I here? What happened to me?" Jean looked her duplicate in the eye, just grazing it slightly with a psychic probe. And Jean paled as she glimpsed several scenes of things that she didn't remember. But she was there. No, this doppelganger was there. "What did you do?"

"You called to me, Jean. You wanted power to save your friends. To save Logan. To save Scott. I answered your call."

Jean grabbed her other self by the shoulders and forcibly took the memories from her. And as she sifted through the memories that were and weren't hers, Jean felt weak in the knees and nearly fell over. "You...you took over my life. My friends. My home. What...what are you?"

The other Jean smirked, her face suddenly growing dark. "I'm the embodiment of the power that you wanted, Jean. But you couldn't handle it. You would rather die than hurt your friends, isn't that right? You left the Blackbird, knowing that your power was slowing taking over and realizing that it was only a matter of time before you hurt them."

"But, you," Jean realized. "You wanted to be free. You wanted to live. So you replaced me?"

"You wanted to live, but your body was broken. I created a new body for you. I gave you a second chance while your current body healed beneath the lake."

"No" Jean shot. "You used me. You wanted to experience the world, but you were easily corrupted, swayed by emotions and your raw power."

The other Jean smirked. "You speak as if I acted alone. But you were there with me, every step of the way, Jean. And in the end, it was you that decided it was better to die than to hurt anyone else, isn't that right?"

A chill passed through Jean's body. "I—I..."

"That's right. You killed Charles. You nearly killed Scott. You attacked your friends...your students...your teammates...your family."

Jean covered her ears and tried to shut out the painful words. But they seemed to be echoing in her own head, over and over. "Stop it!"

The other Jean settled into an evil grin, as Jean recovered. "So what are you going to do now? Are you going to stay here, trapped inside of your own mind?"

"I won't let you control me!"

"Wise choice," the other Jean curtly answered. "You have the ability to tap into a power greater than anyone in the world. It's your power and yours alone. And you have to decide how to use it. Will you control it or let it control you?"

Jean froze, remembering the final words of Charles Xavier before he was destroyed by Jean's power.

_ Don't let it...control...you._

She had failed. Her power had consumed every inch of her being, turning Jean into something that she never thought she would be. A monster.

"I—I can't control it. It's too much," Jean whispered.

"Is it? Or are you simply being weak?"

Jean felt slapped in the face. She knew she wasn't weak. But then again...

As Xavier's first student, Jean always knew that she hadn't progressed as much as the others. Scott slowly revealed more power and control. Ororo had come to use her powers on a massive scale while honing the finesse of smaller weather pattern disruptions. Even Logan sharpened his fighting skills and learned how to internally speed up his healing factor. Yet, Jean always hesitated with her powers.

And Alcatraz was just an example of why Jean felt she could never use the full extent of her powers. But if they had all learned how to control the amazing, destructive powers they possessed, couldn't she? Jean realized that she was holding herself back, and at the same time, conceding to the desires of this other being which spun her powers far beyond control.

The other Jean continued, "Make your choice. Do you want to stay locked inside of yourself forever, or step out and take responsibility for what you've done? And you realize that I won't let you stay here, so you really don't have a choice, do you?"

"Why do you care?" Jean shot.

The other Jean didn't answer, but her face softened slightly. "I guess you can say that I'm trying to redeem myself for my actions."

"You say that you're me, yet you talk about yourself like you're not."

"My existence is not for you to understand. But we will be forever intertwined, Jean Grey. And from now until forever, a fraction of my powers is yours. Embrace it, and reclaim your rightful existence."

Jean paused then asked, "How do I know that I won't hurt anyone else?"

"No one can predict whether they will hurt others or not. But realizing the possibility is a start," the other Jean paused in contemplative silence. "So," she smiled, "are you ready to live again?"

"I've done terrible things. I can't face any of them. I'm scared."

"You're human. You should be scared. It's a sign that you still care." The other Jean held out her hand, a radiant light pouring from everywhere on her body. "You have to take the first step. This power is yours to control. Though we are always together, your mind and your body are now yours alone."

Jean hesitated. Was it just another trick? Would this other Jean somehow take over her mind and do more terrible things? She didn't know who to trust. And she definitely didn't trust herself.

But then she remembered her friends. She could still hear Scott's cries as the lake settled over her body. She could feel Logan's spirit crumble as the Blackbird hovered over the lake. Professor Xavier's silent prayer as he regretted not being able to help her more. Ororo's loss of someone she considered to be like a sister. The children's loss of a teacher that was kind, smart, and respected.

Jean slowly came to realize that she had a second chance. And this offer by this mysterious look-alike may be a one-time offer. She had to take it.

Jean reached for her duplicate's hand, and in a flash all the memories flooded though her in the tiniest fractions of time. She felt her body burn with energy and her mind expand.

With a start, Jean Grey sat up on the medical table gasping for breath. Too many things flooded through her mind, creating a maelstrom of chaotic images and thoughts. Dizzied, Jean closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning. Every sense was overwhelmed—the various aromas floating through the room, the sterile white light glaring down on her, the air currents roughly scarping against her skin, the overwhelming bursts of flavors carried in by her gasps, and the deafening roars of various pieces of medical equipment. It was all too much, too soon, too suddenly.

Jean pulled her knees up and covered her head, suddenly wishing that she had stayed in the void.

II.

Scott Summers felt something strange.

He was finishing the final steps of Sinister's plan, which had been handed down from Apocalypse, when it struck him. It was like a flash of recognition, something in deep inside his mind that he had somehow lost. He caught a glimpse of a red-headed woman with sparkling emerald eyes. A portion of his mind reached out for her as hers reached for his.

As quickly as it had come, it passed, leaving Scott puzzled. Who was that woman? Every time he tried to recreate the image, something blocked it. She quickly faded like a lost dream, and no matter how he struggled to recreate the fair face framed by red hair, it wasn't her.

Brushing it off as nothing more than a fleeting moment, Scott left his room and headed toward the conference room. On the way, Scott finalized the small details of the plan. He shot a quick request Alex passed by. Alex obeyed, summoning the other members of their team. In a matter of minutes, the unruly bunch was actually in place, seated around the rectangular, oak table.

Blockbuster, Vertigo, Toad, Sabretooth, and Prism populated the chairs around the table, while Alex stood off to the side. Scott didn't know their real names. Honestly, he didn't care. They were nothing more than Sinister's selected team to carry out Apocalypse's plan. Emotionless, Scott took his place at the front.

"Okay, people, listen up," Scott announced as he glanced over the crowd. "Tomorrow morning, we will carry out Apocalypse's plan," he scanned the crowd, resting for a few moments longer on Sabretooth and Toad. There was something that nagged in the back of his mind...something he should know about those two. But he dismissed it quickly.

"So, you're Sinister's new pet, huh?" Sabretooth snidely asked. Sabretooth could feel Scott's withering glare from behind his ruby visor. He smirked and said, "I'd heard the boss found a mutant play-toy, but I had no idea it'd be you, Summers."

"Watch your mouth, Creed," Alex challenged, immediately coming to his brother's aid. Sinister charged him with keeping their allies in check, a duty Alex took seriously. And when it came to protecting his older brother, there was nothing Alex wouldn't do.

Alex glared at Sabretooth as he powered his hands with rippling, dense, plasma-based energy. "But if you're ready to see how fast you can heal from being blown to pieces, I'll be happy to oblige you."

A feral growl rumbled in reply.

"Enough!" Scott said. "Alex, relax. Creed, keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you. It makes no difference to me." Sabretooth gave Scott a dismissive snort but said nothing else. To everyone else, Scott explained, "We're supposed to retrieve three mutants. What makes these three so special is that they are classified as Omega-level mutants."

"Omega-level mutants, huh? This should be fun," Blockbuster pounded his right fist into his other hand.

"The first mutant we'll apprehend will be Josh Foley. He's arriving at the airport tomorrow morning. He's being picked up by mutants from Xavier's, so we'll need to be on guard. Sabretooth, Toad, Vertigo, you three will go with me to the airport. Once we have him, we'll retrieve the other two."

"Any details on them?" Vertigo asked.

Cyclops threw two pictures on the table. One of Bobby Drake. And the other of Jean Grey.

III.

Ororo Munroe walked alone down the cold sub-corridors of the mansion. Her boots resounded off the black tiled floors as she made her way though the maze of identical hallways.

Thoughts raced through her mind, but every time she tried to grab a hold of one, it melted into another one. Too many thoughts to organize.

After her conversation with Charles, Ororo headed to her room, but at the last minute, she took a detour. Instead of using the stairs, she took the elevator down to the first level of the sub-basement. As she made her way down the hallway, Ororo stopped by the room where Jean—no, that woman—was recovering.

To her knowledge, the woman hadn't awoken yet. But when she did, Ororo planned on asking her quite a few questions.

Moving on, Ororo entered Julian Keller's room. She was surprised to find Hank there, going between various machines near the bed.

"How is he?" Ororo found herself next to Julian, studying his face. Aside from being pale and having disheveled hair, Julian appeared to be in a deep sleep. She pushed a few strands of dark hair from his forehead, and suddenly felt the beginnings of anger simmering beneath her calm demeanor.

It had been that way a lot lately.

Hank turned from a monitor with various readings and charts, undecipherable to anyone that didn't have the title _doctor_ in front of their name. "Our young telekinetic simply overexerted himself. From what Robert relayed, Julian divided the lake and held it back with relative ease."

"Just like she did," Ororo thought aloud. "But why?"

It was a loaded question. She wanted to know _why_ they had gone to the lake in the first place. She wanted to know _why_ a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Jean Grey lay in the next room. She wanted to know _why_ nothing was as it seemed. But she knew there would be any answers. Not yet anyways.

Feeling Ororo's frustration, Hank replied, "Ororo, you shouldn't be too hard on them. I'm sure they had a good reason for going out there. And as for young Julian, No need for concern...aside from a headache, he'll wake up just fine."

"That's a relief," Ororo responded. She left Julian's side and walked toward the door, but paused before she walked through the door.

"What do you think, Hank?" Ororo clarified, "About her...is she really Jean?" Ororo question was pointed, her voice betraying the obvious mistrust and resentment toward the Jean look-alike.

Hank pondered whether he should answer or not. He didn't want to keep information from her, but Ororo had been stressed as of late and what he had found out wouldn't abate it in the least. But after an uncomfortable moment of silence and a stern look from Ororo, Hank answered.

"I ran several extensive biological tests on her. And all the results were the same—when compared to what we had on file, she is Jean Grey."

Ororo shook her head in denial. "Impossible. We saw Logan..." she trailed off. A lump formed in her throat and tears stung her eyes. Ororo exhaled deeply, letting the breath carry away the sudden flood of emotion. "Well, when she awakens, I'm sure she will be able to explain. Besides, she has much more to account for than her existence."

Hank put down his clipboard and rubbed his chin. "Ororo, I've been reviewing the documentation on Jean and the notes Charles made when he examined her after you and Logan discovered her at the lake. And I can't help but to ask, what if the woman you found wasn't really Jean Grey?"

The thought had crossed her mind, albeit briefly, when they first happened upon the unconscious figure of Jean Grey. But a flood of other emotions buried the thought, and she, just like the rest, quickly accepted that Jean had somehow been resurrected.

A costly mistake. One that Ororo wouldn't make again.

Though she rejected Hank's hypothesis, just the mention of the possibility of the Phoenix not really being Jean took root and began to grow. The more Ororo tried to push it away, the more her mind began to rationalize the idea. But it was too easy. It was easy to blame the deaths and destruction on something that looked, talked, and acted like Jean. It was easy to simply accept that and continue on like nothing had happened.

And now, with Professor Xavier's evasion of death, it further absolved Jean from what she did. Was she being too hard? Maybe. Maybe not.

"I cannot simply accept that, Hank. Where is your proof? And if that other being wasn't Jean, what is the guarantee that the woman in there is Jean? For all we know, she could be another clone. Besides, does that explanation really make sense?"

"Does a woman able to control every aspect of weather make sense? Does a blue-furred doctor that serves as a U.N. Ambassador for Mutant Affairs make sense? Does—"

"Point taken," Ororo interjected. No matter how much she wanted to believe it, Ororo wouldn't let herself accept it. And she wouldn't let anyone convince her of some whimsical explanation that makes everything better. "Please let me know when Julian awakens," she said, effectively ending the conversation.

Hank thought of continuing, but he simply replied, "Of course." He decided not to ask about Charles, though he was curious what was going through Ororo's mind.

"Goodnight, Hank," she said as she left without another word.

Hank watched her go, praying that she could find it in her heart to forgive both Charles and Jean.

IV.

Rogue rested her head rested on Bobby's shoulder, and both of them breathed deeply, just on the edge of sleep. They had talked each other to that point, going over the evening's events then training, school, and the other students. Soon, the conversation came full circle, and they were pondering over the status of Dr. Grey, and what Ms. Munroe would do.

Slowly, sleep overtook them, as their words slowed then shortened to subtle mumbles of agreement. Tranquility floated about them as easily as a spring breeze, lingered, then became a thick blanket.

Until the mansion began to shake apart.

Bobby and Rogue were thrown to the ground as everything shook and rattled violently. Bobby assumed that the same thing was happening all over the mansion. Screams, objects being shattered, and furniture rapping against the ground came from all around, quickly turning the night of solace into a nightmare.

"What's happening?" Rogue shouted above all the other noise. She scrambled forward and grabbed Bobby's hand with her own gloved one. Bobby's shocked expression told her he was just in the dark as she was.

It was impossible to get to their feet, so they managed to crawl to the door, away from the windows. Mrs. Underwood, Bobby's first grade teacher, taught him and the other twenty-two students that during an earthquake, the safest place inside a house was in a doorway and away from windows. Or maybe it was under a table away from windows.

But as quickly as the tremor started, it stopped. Everything was suddenly still and quiet. As their ears adjusted, they began to hear the sobs of some of the smaller kids staying in the mansion. They also heard movement, hopefully from the other X-Men. Bobby and Rogue both prayed that they weren't under attack.

Bobby stood and stepped out into the hallway and saw Sage dashing down the hallway. "Where are you going? What happened?" Rogue stepped up behind him, the same questions etched into her expression.

Sage stopped abruptly, annoyed that someone had interrupted her thoughts. "If you must know, there was a massive telekinetic power surge in the lower parts of the mansion. My calculations indicate that there is a high chance that the surge caused the disruption we just experienced. I have a feeling they'll need my help."

"We're going with you!" Rogue declared.

Sage rolled her eyes. "Bobby may be able to help, but you haven't even determined the extent of your powers, let alone utilized them. You would simply get yourself hurt. Besides, the both of you should be checking on the rest of the students. Some of them may be hurt or, just judging from you two, they may be simply scared."

Rogue's cheeks burned. And Bobby could feel the anger emanating from her like a summer heat wave.

Coming to Rogue's defense, Bobby shot, "Why do you have to act like that?"

Sage returned with a curious glance, raising one eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like you're so much better than us."

Sage looked down her nose at both Bobby and Rogue and replied, "Because I am." She gave a condescending smile then continued on her way.

"And they let _her_ be an X-Man? I swear," Rogue mumbled.

"But she has a point," Bobby admitted. "We should check on the younger students. If anything's going on, the others are probably already responding."

"Yeah," Rogue absently replied. Though she didn't plan on arguing, Rogue didn't like being made to feel useless, especially as an X-Man. Come tomorrow, she and the Danger Room were going to become best friends. In the meantime, Rogue followed Bobby as they darted in and out of rooms, ensuring the kids weren't too shaken up.

And as they checked from room to room, Bobby couldn't help but to wonder if Julian was at the middle of the disturbance. Or if it was Jean Grey.

V.

Hank McCoy was on the move when the first tremor disturbed his reading of _Modern_ _Genetic_ _Analysis_. Almost instinctively, he knew where the tremors were originating from. But what he didn't know is which one of his patients was causing it.

He immediately bounded into the hallway from his basement lab, nearly running into Kurt Wagner, and Ororo Munroe. Without a word, they dashed down the hallway, quickly having to call upon their powers to make it to the basement. Ororo took flight to keep from being thrown against the wall, while Hank and Kurt bounded off the walls in a gracefully acrobatic style, which would have made any trapeze artist jealous.

It only took one turn for them to find themselves in the hallway leading to the infirmary, where the situation was definitely worse. It seemed as though the entire mansion had turned against them and wanted them to go no farther. There was a force that prevented them from going any farther and began to push them back.

"Hank! Is it Julian?" Ororo shouted.

Hank didn't answer, which told Ororo exactly what she needed to know. And the answer made a shiver run down her spine. The very thing she sought to avoid was now happening—that woman was awake.

Kitty Pryde dropped through the ceiling right into the middle of the group. "Anything I can help with?"

"Take care of the other kids, Kitty. This is no place for you," Ororo snapped.

Kitty cast an appalled glance toward Ororo, but, for once, held her tongue.

Before Ororo could start formulating a plan to deter the threat, it stopped. Everything was still. There were no more tremors. The energy dissipated letting them move freely once again.

"The psychokinetic maelstrom has abated," Sage curiously said as she joined the group.

"It seems that is the case but for how long?" Ororo asked.

Kitty frowned. "Are we going to check on Julian? Or maybe it was…"

"Kurt, take Kitty back upstairs. Immediately."

"Come on, Fraulein. We'll head—" Kurt calmly said.

"No," Kitty calmly but sternly replied. "Whether you like it or not, Storm, I'm as much a part of this team as any of the adults. If it was Dr. Grey then I deserve to know."

Ororo stepped forward, her ire distinctly visible. "Your open defiance will not go unpunished, Kitten. I strongly suggest that you accompany Kurt to tend to the other students, before you wind up in much more trouble than you're willing to face.

Kitty stood strong for a moment, but quickly averted her eyes and crossed her arms. "Whatever. Let's go then. I thought I was an X-Man, but apparently, I've been reduced to resident babysitter." Before Ororo could fully unleash on Kitty, Kurt grabbed her hand and in a flash, with a _bamf,_ they were gone. The subtle smell of brimstone lingered behind, but was quickly vanquished with a slight breeze, courtesy of Ororo.

"Not too popular with the kids these days, are you?" Emma strolled down the hallway, flanked by Charles Xavier.

"Usually I have time to respond to your witless banter, Emma. But today, my nerves are shot. For your own safety, I would suggest you keep such comments to yourself. I believe we have the situation under control. Is there any reason you are here?" Though she spoke to Emma, they all knew the question was directed towards Charles as well.

Emma replied, "A lesson on psychics, Ororo. Whenever there's any kind of psychic disturbance, especially a high-level one like this, our ears tend to perk up. We can usually block out normal thoughts and psi-assaults, but this one wasn't so easily blocked out. There are only a few people in this world that wield that kind of power. One is right next to me. The other—well, I thought she was buried out back."

"Watch how carelessly you speak of the dead, Emma," Ororo warned. She then caught herself. Why was she so sensitive about Emma talking about Jean? Ororo shook it off, and turned to Charles. "It could be dangerous down here, Professor."

"I understand. But if we can't reach her, I fear the next outburst will tear the school apart. I must see her."

_Her?_ Ororo thought to herself. On some level, Charles knew that the woman in that room was Jean or bore some resemblance to the woman they previously knew as Jean. Then was that his reason for coming back? Ororo wasn't sure, but somehow, there was a correlation between Jean's reappearance and Charles's visit.

Sage commented, "There's still a dangerous level of psychic energy pouring from that room. It's being controlled, but I don't know for how long. And judging from its magnitude, I don't think any of us stand a chance against it."

"That's where I come in. I'm going to try to reach her," Charles explained. He began to roll his wheelchair in that direction.

"Professor, wait!" Ororo commanded. "The last time you faced her—" she began but trailed off.

"I faced the Phoenix. Today, the woman in that room is Jean Grey. And this time, I intend on saving her." Charles looked to Ororo to object, but she quickly broke her gaze and said nothing.

Sage faced Ororo. "Not to add fuel to the fire, but the only person that can get remotely close enough to Jean is Kitty. Jean can't hurt what she can't touch."

Ororo nodded, already feeling a growing knot in her stomach. "Are you sure about this?"

Charles gave her the fatherly smile that they were all used to seeing. "Honestly, no. But I have to save all of you. And I have to save her."

Kurt appeared again with both Logan and Kitty in tow. Kitty pouted as she strode across to Professor Xavier's side, but soon succumbed to curiosity as she studied Charles. Kitty reached her hand to Charles timidly, unsure of whether he was real or not. As their hands touched then became intangible, Kitty knew that he was the real thing. But were they ready to face Jean?

"We'll be fine, Kitty," Charles replied. Kitty wasn't sure whether he was simply being a reassuring father figure or if he had somehow sensed her concern. Charles asked, "Are you ready?"

Kitty's apprehension melted away. "The question is: are you?"

"Your youthful exuberance is always enjoyable, Kitty. Let's go."

Watched by the adult X-Men, Kitty and Charles moved quickly through the hallway then through the wall to Jean's room, unsure of what they would find on the other side.

Notes:

Thanks for keeping up with the story so far. Sorry for the long wait, but writer's block, work, and life in general (plus a new girlfriend) kept me away for a while. But I'm back and you'll be seeing more progress on this story.

Tonyb53218: Glad you like the story. Hopefully, this chapter delivers! Enjoy!

MacePren: And I have finally updated…lol!

Cindy: Sorry, I think I kept you waiting way too long for an update, but here it is. Jean and Bobby's status as omega-level mutant will be explained later in the story. Keep reading!

Blue Phoenix 217: Updated! Let me know what you think of the new chapter.

BlackIceAngel: Their father (the Guthries' father) was in a mining accident when they were younger. I researched it a little bit and went back and double checked just to make sure.

Signal the Rifleman: Thanks for the review. The reviews and feedback I have gotten so far are enough to keep me going in the right direction, so I don't mind the low numbers. Your review totally made sense, and I'll be looking for one for this chapter as well.

Peter Halliwell: Well, here's the newest chapter. Let me know what you think!

LastWhiteRose: Scott will be showing up quite soon to retrieve the aforementioned omega-level mutants. And when he does, it's going to be trouble for the X-Men.


	11. Chapter 11

I.

The blood had no distinct meaning for him. The cries of anguish were like an unnoticed, soft summer breeze. The final scream before death was nothing more than white noise. Warren, now referred to by his given name, Death, watched as Caliban tore apart another unworthy mutant, someone too weak to be of any use to Apocalypse.

The thick crimson warmth oozed down Caliban's milky white skin, dripping off his face, hands, and arms. He scanned the room for another, but there was no one left alive of the thirty mutants that had congregated in the warehouse.

"Why are we sidetracked from our original goal?" Lorna kicked an unmoving body, cast a look of disgust toward Caliban, and continued toward Warren.

Warren watched Caliban lick the blood from his fingertips. "Though it seems our friend enjoys this a little more than he should, we are not off track from our original plan. We are to herald the coming of Lord Apocalypse. To separate the wheat from the chaff, this is our role. Do you doubt the role Apocalypse has granted us?"

"I don't doubt. It's only a question," Lorna stated then used her magnetic powers to lift herself to continue to survey the area with Famine.

He didn't admit it, but there was something nagging at him. Something told him that what they were doing was wrong, but he couldn't control himself. There was some kind of drive that wouldn't be subdued…a drive to kill for Apocalypse. And all he could do was obey. Yet…

Warren shook off his heretic thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Though he was partly disappointed that they found no allies, Warren found himself enjoying this new surge of power. His metallic wings responded quickly—his feathers, now razor sharp shards, flew with deadly accuracy at his slightest inkling. His heightened agility made his practically untouchable, and his fighting prowess made his foes fall with hardly any effort at all. Warren supposed he should be thankful, but deep down, he knew this wasn't right.

No matter how he tried to shake it or justify it, his faith in Lord Apocalypse was fading. And something new was taking its place. Or maybe it was something old…

II.

For once, Kitty had nothing to say. She watched in awe as one of the heaviest pieces of medical equipment (she couldn't remember the complicated name Dr. McCoy gave it or what it actually did) float by like a feather on a breeze. All about the room, objects both heavy and light were suspended in the air, moving by some means unable to be seen by normal eyes.

But for Charles, he could feel the psychic energy tied to the movement of each object. Though psychokinesis was generally a physical reaction, the mental energy expended by doing such an act could be detected by those with highly sensitive psychic ability. And Charles was one of those people.

And at the center of it was Jean Grey. Like a small girl overwhelmed by the outside world, Jean floated in the air, her knees tucked in and hands covering her head. Her red hair floated around her, making it appear as if she were drifting underwater.

Kitty glanced at Charles, hoping that he had some idea of what to do. She wasn't disappointed. Charles already had his hand to his head and his eyes closed, a sign that he was attempting to psychically communicate with Jean.

_"Jean, can you hear me?"_

The voice startled her, and she almost went out of control again. It sounded like Charles, but that couldn't be. She had killed him. Yet, she could feel familiar warmth from that voice.

_"Who's there?"_ she reflexively asked, though she already knew. Professor Xavier was alive, somehow. Jean couldn't immediately discern the details, and her initial thought of him being a hallucination were quickly eradicated. And he was there with a student, Kitty Pryde, which quickly made sense when Jean thought about it.

Her telekinesis allowed her to manipulate tangible objects. However, Kitty could turn herself and anyone she was in contact with intangible, which made the physical aspect of Jean's power useless against her and Charles.

Jean unfolded herself, yet remained floating in the middle of the room. "Charles, you're alive. I thought—" she trailed off.

"Listen to me. You've been through a traumatic situation, and you've awakened. But you must control your powers before you tear the mansion apart."

"The mansion? How did I get here? The Phoenix…it—I. Scott!" Jean screamed and collapsed on the floor. Along with her, every floating object clattered to the floor.

"Jean!" Charles let go of Kitty's hand and wheeled over to her. "Get Dr. McCoy!" Charles commanded, but Hank bolted through the door before Kitty could react.

"What happened?" Hank checked Jean's pulse then lifted her onto the bed.

Charles shook his head. "I believe the shock of being alive again overwhelmed her. She only fell unconscious. I can feel a steady flow of brain activity. She should be fine in a few minutes."

"Looks like you've done my job for me, Charles," Hank chuckled.

"My apologies. I know how volatile this situation is," Charles turned to face Ororo, who stood in the doorway, expression darkened at the sight of Jean. Feeling the situation was under control, she sent the others, including Kitty, to check on the rest of the students. She needed to see Charles and Jean by herself.

"Are you now to validate the safety of the students when we now retain the woman that killed both you and Scott Summers? Especially when her powers can reach throughout the mansion without much effort at all."

Charles left Hank's side and closed the gap between them. "Ororo, I know there has been a lot of death and destruction, caused by Jean. But she wasn't herself. Jean—"

"Enough!" Ororo sharply said. A roar of thunder outside shook the windows slightly. "I shall speak to her when she awakens in a few hours. Only after that will I determine a course of action, along with the other X-Men, including you. But until then, though I appreciate your intervention, I would ask that you retire to your bedroom for the night. There will be plenty of time to discuss this."

Charles agreed and wheeled around Ororo, knowing that a full explanation of Jean's situation would fall on deaf ears. "You know, anger doesn't suit you," Charles, without waiting for a response, disappeared around the corner.

Hank finished settling Jean into the med bay, having removed her uniform and tucking her into bed. He set up an overturned medical machine, which Ororo presumed did some kind of monitoring. Without a word, she assisted Hank where she could, rearranging the mess that was brought about only moments ago. In a matter of thirty minutes, the room was back a reasonable state of orderliness.

"He's right," Hank suddenly said as he pushed a large machine against the wall. "If you need someone to talk to, you know that I'll listen."

Ororo thought about just letting everything go, but she caught herself. "After I talk to her, I believe some rest will do me well. I would hope that you would get some rest as well."

"I must check on our younger patient before retiring, but I think a bout of hibernation is in order," Hank chuckled at his own joke, eliciting a smile from Ororo.

"Let me know if this patient wakes up. And thanks, Hank," Ororo smiled before leaving Hank to the rest of his medical duties.

III.

Not even thirty minutes later, Ororo found herself traversing the med bay hallways once again. She went straight to Jean's room, having already told Hank that she wanted to meet with Jean alone, and opened the door. Ororo stepped in the doorway, unsure of what to make of Jean floating lotus style in the middle of the room. Before she could speak, Jean opened her eyes.

"I had a choice. I was floating in a black void, and I was safe. Safe from myself, and the rest of you were safe from me and what I'm capable of. I could've stayed there, tucked away forever. But I wanted to see all of you again. You're my family. I know everything that happened. And I know that it isn't what most of you may think. All I ask is that you give me a chance."

Ororo's expression remained unchanged. "You tried to kill Professor Xavier. And you killed Scott. You would've killed any of us, given the chance. And now you reappear and ask so much of us, when you stole so much more."

Ororo's words stung Jean, but she held her ground. "I can't ask for your forgiveness. I don't think I'll ever get that. I'm asking for another chance. I am an X-Man—"

"You _were_ an X-Man," Ororo corrected.

"You're going to make this as difficult as you can, aren't you?"

"No. It will be impossible. You murdered two of our own in cold blood and countless others. How can we simply let you saunter about this school, our home, without consequence?"

"I never said I wanted in without consequence. I just...I need you. I need all of you."

Ororo crossed her arms, signaling the nearing end of the discussion. "You are to stay confined in this room until I can meet with the rest of the staff to figure out your status. I have an idea of the power you wield, and I know that these walls will not hold you if you do not want them to. But if you are sincere, you will remain here until we make our decision."

Jean frowned. "I see. You don't want me here, do you?"

"Do you understand the word _betrayal_? You were like a sister to me, Jean. But then you turned into our worst enemy, threatening our own family. What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to feel? I simply cannot allow you back in here with open arms. I have no guarantee that you are truly who you say you are, and that you will not betray us again. Until I have that reassurance, your status as an X-Man has been revoked, and you are to remain here, without outside contact until I determine it is safe."

"I understand," Jean replied.

Ororo walked out of the door, and as soon as it was closed, she spotted Logan leaning on the wall right outside the door.

"What the hell was that about?" Logan shot.

"You just could not stay away, could you, Logan? Since when did eavesdropping become your forte? This is between Jean and me, so I politely ask that you stay out of it."

"Like hell I will."

"Then I shall tell you to stay out of it."

"Don't do this, 'Ro. Jeanie deserves—"

"Do not even dare tell me what she deserves. Charles Xavier deserved to live. Scott Summers deserved to live. Yet, Charles had his life unexpectedly interrupted, and Scott was not granted the full gambit of what he deserved. Now, you propose that I should grant her a pardon and let her into this school as if nothing happened?"

Logan replied, "You're not—"

"No," Ororo darkly interjected. "I shall not entertain anything else from you. You are still in love with her, hanging on for dear life, doing whatever you can to keep her love. Well, I am not blinded by love. I deal with duty and responsibility, and right now, as headmistress of this school, I am ordering her to be confined to her room, with no outside contact, until we convene to figure out what to do with her."

"You don't know what it's like to lose someone you love."

"Really, Logan? Are you that self-centered that you think you are the only person that has lost someone they loved? My parents were killed before my eyes. I stayed buried underneath rubble for days with my dead parents until we were rescued. You have no right to tell me what I do and do not know about loss."

"I didn't mean—"

"Of course you didn't, but you said it anyways, did you not?" Ororo pointedly asked. "When you begin to think before you speak, we will continue this conversation. Until then, I bid you goodnight, Logan."

Logan knew that he had messed up with Ororo, more than he had in the past. But he knew that if anyone could get through to her, it was him. And to do that, he had to see Jean for himself.

IV.

Jean Grey didn't have to use her telepathy to know who had slipped into her room. He had moved stealthily, much like a stalker eying its prey. But this hunter was after something else, something that Jean ultimately knew she couldn't give him.

From her location, floating lotus style over the bed, her back to the door, she could smell the familiar Cuban cigar aroma that defined Logan. She could feel his disbelief and hesitation, yet the attraction overrode all sense of danger as he moved closer.

Without turning around, Jean said, "You shouldn't be in here, Logan. Besides, every time we meet in the med bay, something unexpected happens."

When he didn't answer, she turned around, lowering herself to the floor. Her emerald eyes locked with Logan's own dark brown eyes, and she saw not the hunter of the wild, but a lone man, brimming with emotions that until he met her, he had long forgotten.

"Jean," Logan searched for the right words to say, but couldn't find them. For him, it was like yesterday when he pierced Jean with his claws, fulfilling her request to be saved, but killing the woman he loved, or so he thought. Now, that same woman stood before him yet again, somehow eluding the clutches of death once again.

"Don't say anything," Jean gently said. She stepped forward and took his hand in hers, and brought it to her face. He felt a tingle surge through his body as he caressed her smooth skin, gazing into her eyes. He let the caress linger for as long as he could, fighting the disbelief that Jean was really standing before him.

She placed her hand on his then gently moved it back down to his side. "You know," Jean broke the silence that had fallen between them, "she's right. You can't hold onto me, Logan. I'm not yours."

It pained Logan to hear that, but at the same time, he was glad she was making a stand. This entire time, there was an unspoken attraction between the both of them that neither one of them opposed, despite Jean's involvement with Scott. But Scott was gone now and there were no barriers or complications to their relationship. Yet, Logan knew Jean was right.

"I had to know that you were alive. I wanted to know that you were really you."

Jean broke their gaze and sighed heavily. "It's hard being here after everything I did."

"It wasn't you—"

"But it was. The power was—is—mine to control. And I couldn't. Professor Xavier wanted to help me, but I didn't help myself. And now, I have to deal with the consequences. I can barely block out the questions, concerns, hatred, and pity that is swirling around. I want to be here, but too much has happened. I'm not welcome here."

"That's not true. 'Ro didn't mean what she said."

"She's right, Logan. About _everything_," Jean said, confirming to him that she had been eavesdropping on the entire conversation.

Logan raised an eyebrow, "So you think my judgment is clouded too?"

Jean gave him a sincere smile. "No. I appreciate that you're willing to give me a chance, but I have to face this by myself. I turned against the people I considered to be family, using my power to destroy everything in my path. Honestly, I don't know if that can ever be forgiven."

"Forgiveness and redemption. I know those all too well. I've killed men, Jean. I was created to be a killing machine. But if I could be given a second chance then I know that we can do the same for you."

"You may be the only one that feels that way. But thank you, Logan. For everything."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe this isn't for me. I'll move out near my parents and teach out there, and hopefully, I'll never end up in a position where I have to use my powers."

"You can't just leave."

"I can't stay here."

"I'll fight for you."

"I can fight for myself. I—" before she could continue, a blinding flash erupted from behind her eyes. She suddenly felt a familiar connection, but something was wrong. It was tainted, being overridden by some other presence, something evil. And there was something else. Ancient. Powerful. Ruthless. Jean pitched forward, overwhelmed by the feelings, and Logan moved quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Jean! What's wrong?"

Jean looked disoriented and confused. "I—I don't know. I could feel Scott. But there was something else. But I don't know. I can't feel him anymore."

Though Logan felt a hint of jealousy, he had grown to accept Scott. He was the boy scout of the group, the star pupil, which crawled under Logan's skin, but he knew that the team wasn't complete without Scott. And Jean wasn't complete without Scott. If he was alive then Logan would do everything in his power to find him.

"Come on now, darlin'," Logan helped Jean to her feet and over to the bed. "Get some rest, and we'll see if Chuck can use Cerebro to find him."

"Do you think he's alive?"

Logan was silent for a moment. "I hope so."

V.

Jean Grey, dressed in the standard blue and gold training uniform, kept pace with Hank McCoy. At Hank's insistence, Jean donned the uniform, which she had last worn years ago, traded for the battle leathers that they now adorned. Surprised she still fit in it, Jean reluctantly accompanied Hank to the Danger Room. Fortunately, the Danger Room was on a lower level than the med bay, so she didn't have to worry about seeing any students. At least, not yet.

Hank seemed to be able to banter on about anything, which Jean was thankful for. She didn't know what to say to him actually. She remembered him being there on Alcatraz when everything began to go awry. He had seen Jean at her worst. And the most difficult thing was being able to face him after that.

Logan had visited her last night, and Jean sensed that it was harder for him to see her than the other way. In his mind, he had already forgiven her. Unconditionally. She only wished it could be that easy for the others.

Then there was the flash that Jean recognized as Scott's thought patterns. But as quickly as it had come, it vanished. And no matter how Jean searched, she couldn't find it again. She had told Logan about it only because she had been so stricken by the feeling, but she didn't want to say anything to anyone else until she was sure.

Jean attempted to focus on the story Hank was retelling, complete with hearty laughs which interrupted the story.

"—a pie in his face. Of course, Peter was far from amused, but the look on his face was—"

Jean suddenly said, "Hank, I don't know if I can do this."

Hank's playful demeanor turned serious. "I have never known you to so quickly shrink away from a challenge."

"I'm not talking about the Danger Room."

"Neither am I."

Jean stopped. "I hurt so many people, people that trusted me, that depended on me, that looked up to me. My situation is complicated, but in the end, does it really matter? All they saw was me, Jean Grey, kill and destroy with reckless abandon. I can't ever get rid of that."

"And you never will be able to. Such a feat should not be your foremost objective."

"That's just it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to feel. There's so much that's going on inside of my head. Not to mention what everyone else thinks. I don't know what to do."

"Just be the same Jean Grey that you always were. The same Jean Grey that you are now."

"You're talking in riddles."

"Usually, I give my students some parable that relates to the moral I wish to impart, but you are no student. Therefore, I'm assured that you will prove to be the Jean we thought we had lost. Now, this on the other hand," Hank motioned to the entrance of the Danger Room, "I can't say that I'm so easily reassured that you're ready for the perilous, yet strangely satisfying world of simulated battle, young lady."

Jean couldn't help but to smile. She had known Hank since first coming to the school, and now, she felt like she was seeing an old friend after several years apart. And honestly, it felt good. For a moment, Jean forgot about her uncomfortable status in the mansion and laughed.

"Wait, was that sound of laughter projected from the mouth of the young red-head returned to the land of the living?"

"I sometimes wonder if you sit awake at night studying a dictionary. Or maybe a thesaurus. We joked about it all the time."

"We?"

"Yeah," Jean absently replied, feeling her mood fading fast.

Catching the shift, Hank instructed Jean to enter the Danger Room. He also let her know that he would monitor the action from the Control Room.

"You're also a guinea pig. You're the first to use the Danger Room after Forge's and my modifications."

"Great. So should I expect walking test tubes and dangerous robots attacking me?"

"Maybe," Hank slyly replied.

Jean couldn't help but laugh. "Sometimes, you worry me. But I think I'm ready for this," Jean smiled in the direction of the Control Room.

"Okay, Jean. Wait, are you still going by Marvel Girl? You know we only use codenames in the Danger Room."

"Well, Beast, I'll have to decide that one after this session."

The Danger Room was a vast chamber, outfitted with thousands if not millions of photon imagers, capable of creating solid projections with the same consistency and texture as the real-life object. The images could be as bland or intricate as the program needed, leading to amazingly detailed and realistic battlegrounds. Though Jean was no stranger to the Danger Room, its complexity amazed her every time.

Hank's voice resounded from the multitude of speakers around the room. "Jean, I'm loading Program 19837: Mansion Assault."

"I see. A re-enactment of Stryker's raid on the school."

"Affirmative. Beginning sequence."

The program loaded and suddenly, Jean found herself in the front area of the mansion. Everything was intact and no detail was left unaccounted for. Even down to a crumpled piece of paper left behind by one of the students.

The Danger Room mansion was quiet. Too quiet. It was night time outside, but the sounds of the night had long since stopped their symphony, leaving behind a void of silence. Jean anticipated the attack, but felt blind. In most situations, a quick psychic scan would have immediately informed her how many adversaries there were, their relative location, and their intentions. But here, there were no minds to read. Her survival would be strictly based on reacting appropriately to her adversaries, with no warning of their approach.

The moment Jean became comfortable with the silence, it was shattered by the entrance of soldiers crashing through the windows. The living room, hallways, back area—the soldiers, clad from head to toe in black, poured in, and Jean readied herself.

A soldier from the back area got to her first, and Hank shook his head, thinking the soldier had gotten the jump on Jean. But before the soldier could get a good punch in, Jean blocked and delivered a solid, vicious punch to his face, followed by a hard side kick planted in his chest. Of course, her strikes were telekinetically reinforced, amplifying the hit significantly. The soldier fell, soundly defeated. But he was quickly replaced by two more, approaching from the front. Jean caught one mid-punch, blasting him in the face with her elbow and at the same time, simply thought about pushing the other. He flew back and crashed into the wall with such force, his body left a man-sized dent. She finished off the other with a palm strike to the face, crushing his nose. He fell to the ground unconscious.

"My stars and garters. I am indeed impressed by your prowess, no doubt gleaned from our resident brawler, Logan."

Jean had no time to give a witty reply as she was bombarded on all sides by a multitude of soldiers. But never once did she feel overwhelmed or powerless. Now, relying more on her telekinesis, Jean easily manipulated the objects in the room, using tables and chairs as offensive weapons, as well as directly striking her foes with telekinetic energy blasts.

She hadn't even broken a sweat as she manhandled the opponents that Hank kept coming. There were a few that Jean allowed to get close just so she could enjoy the solid impact of actually hitting something. Two more soldiers appeared from two different doorways looking to surprise her, but Jean simply wrapped her thoughts around the one closest to her, letting him hover in midair for a moment, before sending him flying at its partner, effectively taking out the both of them.

Hank watched curiously as Jean handled herself with much more confidence than she ever had before. Even her telekinetic handling was far more superior, manipulating multiple objects simultaneously, regardless of the size.

The pendulum had swung. And Jean had found her middle ground.

His attention was drawn to one of the monitors that kept track of power fluctuations. The red lines were much higher than they should have been, even though Jean's power levels were regularly abnormally high because of her status as an Omega-level mutant. He turned back and watched in amazement as time seemed to slow to a near halt. Jean's arms rose as she lifted herself into the air, her hair and clothes rippling against the raw energy bombarding the environment.

Hank looked to the screen for a classification of the energy radiating from Jean's core, but he found that it wasn't just telekinetic energy, but psychic as well as cosmic energy. As Jean floated, Hank swore he saw the image of a firebird appear around her. A glorious winged image, its wings outstretched to match Jean's extended arms, its beak agape in an eternal, yet soundless cry.

He had never seen anything so beautiful. Radiant light emerged from both Jean and the firebird and bathed the scene in a warm, soothing glow. The light of creation. The glow of destruction. One in the same.

This was much more power than Jean had wielded at Alcatraz. It was a more focused control, purposeful attack with a specific purpose, not to destroy. It was then Hank knew that Jean had full control and understanding of the awesome power she had tapped into.

Suddenly, nothing was anchored to the ground as Jean commanded every object. Both her opponents and objects were tossed away from her in every direction in a telekinetic maelstrom.

Satisfied the threat had been deterred, the firebird evaporated as Jean lowered herself to the ground. The scenery around her dissolved, and she found herself back in the familiar space of the Danger Room.

"Ending the program already?" Jean smiled up at Hank in the control room.

"Well, you just returned to the realm of the living, young lady. There's no sense in wearing you out on your first day. "

Jean started toward the door, but stopped and looked up at Hank. "Don't worry, Hank. This power is mine to control. It won't control me. And for my codename, call me Phoenix."

Notes:

None.


	12. Chapter 12

I.

A goodnight's sleep did nothing to assuage Ororo's foul mood. It wasn't like her to wake up in such a disposition, but it wasn't everyday that someone disappeared (Warren), someone thought to have been dead reappeared (Charles), and a murderer took up residence in the mansion (Jean).

She closed her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? These days, everything seemed to send her into a state of anger, and it was only getting worse. But Ororo thought she knew some of the problem—she didn't have anyone to talk to.

Ororo spent most of her time trying to solve others' problems. Everything from academics to the training plan to the personal disputes of the faculty. It was her job as headmistress to take care of everyone else, but that left her without a caretaker. Logan always offered to be her listening ear, but she didn't feel comfortable crying on his shoulder, feeling that somehow, it would diminish her leadership and independence in his eyes.

And for some reason, that was vastly important for her to maintain.

So Ororo, despite Hank's warnings and offers, simply bottled it all up inside. But her bottle was only so big, and now, it was spilling over.

A gust of wind carried Ororo up to her skylight. She gazed out into the peaceful morning sky then opened the skylight, letting the early morning smells and sounds float into her room. Before she knew it, she summoned a stronger wind to carry her into the sky. Sunrays warmed her exposed arms and legs as a light breeze tussled her shoulder-length, white hair.

Her mind flashed back to the macabre pictures that Detective Bishop had showed her earlier last night. With the excitement of Jean—no, that woman—Ororo had almost forgotten. In her mind, she quickly assembled who she wanted to accompany her to the crime scene. Regaining her normal demeanor, Ororo took one last circle around the mansion then ended her flight back in her room.

Ororo showered and dressed quickly, then stumbled across a note slipped under her door.

_Ororo, per my medical evaluation, I'm taking Jean to the Danger Room. Don't worry, I'll be fine. And she will be too._

_Hank_

Ororo folded the note, silently cursing Hank. The last thing that she wanted was another incident with Jean—that woman—but it seemed no one shared her precautions.

Deciding to discuss it with Hank at a later time, Ororo pushed her ire to the back of her mind as she strode downstairs.

The first floor was in strict contrast to the quiet solace of her room. Michael, Jubilee, and Remy stood by the door, obviously waiting for someone. Bobby, Kitty, Rogue, Dani, Sam, and a few other students sat around the table, eating breakfast and talking about everything and nothing at once. Sean rushed by Ororo while telling Michael, Jubilee, and Remy that he would be right there. Cecelia and Tom were lecturing some of the other students on safety in the Danger Room.

Then she spotted Bishop, standing to the side, listening to the lecture as well. "Detective Bishop, I was unaware that you were coming by today." Ororo crossed the room and greeted him with a firm, yet feminine handshake.

"I know. I figured that you and your team were going to investigate the crime scene, so I figured I'd tag along."

Ororo raised an eyebrow. "I think we're fully capable of handling this without your oversight, Detective."

"No oversight," Bishop replied, putting his hands up in defense. "Just lending a hand. I came to you guys for help, so I figured I could learn a thing or two if I tagged along."

"Agreed. If you follow me," Ororo began to walk, "I shall gather the rest of our team then we shall head out."

Bishop followed Ororo, eying the students passing by. He had heard rumors of Xavier's being a school for young mutants, but seeing it with his own eyes shed a different light on it. Portrayed as some kind of secret mutant hideout, most people had a degree of mistrust for the school. But Bishop saw that there was nothing secret about Xavier's. And there wasn't anything malevolent about concentration of mutants. If anything, it gave them an environment to learn about the world and themselves without fear of prejudice and discrimination.

Ororo and Bishop headed down to the sub-basement via the main elevator, then took a few sharp turns into a large hangar. Scanning the wall next to the entrance, Ororo used the intercom system. "Dr. McCoy and Mr. Howlett, please report to the hangar."

Within a few minutes, the summoned X-Men came through the entrance, to include Jean Grey. Ororo shot a withering glance toward Hank, who cleared his throat and stood his ground.

"Jean and I were in the Danger Room, and I must say, she has mastered control of her abilities. Much more so than I've ever seen."

"Well, I appreciate the back brief on her progress, but I thought we agreed that Jean was to stay confined to the med bay until we were able to discern some critical aspects of her return."

"She's not a prisoner," Hank said.

Ororo dismissed the comment. "I called you both down to accompany Detective Bishop and I to the Sea Breeze. He has requested for our help."

"The police, asking for our help?" Logan scoffed.

Bishop spoke up. "It's a delicate situation. And I knew that your outfit was equipped to handle it."

"I don't understand detective, what exactly happened?" Jean asked Bishop.

"A mutant massacre, Dr. Grey. The Morlocks, the mutants that inhabited the Sea Breeze were all brutally killed last night. I thought it would be appropriate if you all got first dibs on the investigation."

Ororo nodded. "Logan and Hank, we'll be taking the Blackbird."

Hank began. "Jean can—"

"—stay here," Ororo finished.

"You're not going to trust me until you give me a chance, Storm," Jean stated. She could feel the mixed emotions in Ororo, but prevented herself from digging any farther than that. If she wanted Ororo to trust her, then Jean knew that it would have to be at Ororo's own pace.

Ororo thought for a moment. Surely, there would be no harm in allowing Jean to simply investigate the slaughter. Besides, Jean had a point. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan giving her an expression that said, _"__you__ should let her go, 'Ro."_

"I shall need someone with your abilities on this investigation, Jean."

_"Thank you,"_ Jean telepathically said to Ororo.

_"Do not make me regret this decision__"_ she replied.

Bishop said, "You know, we're going to be real friendly if we take my car."

"Who said we were taking your car, Detective?" Ororo smiled.

Once in the Blackbird, Jean took her position as co-pilot. Like a well-oiled machine, Ororo and Jean prepped the Blackbird for takeoff, both letting the other know when their respective responsibilities were accomplished. Ororo noted how easy it was with Jean, despite Kurt's adept learning of the co-pilot position.

"Everybody buckled in?" Jean turned halfway around to check on Logan, Bishop, and Hank, and Peter. Once she had visual confirmation, Jean turned back to the front, flipped a few more switches then said to Ororo, "We're ready for take off."

"I see you have not lost your touch," Ororo commented as she pulled back on the throttle. "Let's go."

The Blackbird climbed steadily then tore away from the school, leaving behind a sonic boom, indicating that the X-Men were headed into action.

II.

Sean Cassidy turned the corner, screeching the tires in the process, and whipped the Mazda RX-8 into a parking space. Quickly turning off the car, he hopped out and almost took flight then but remembered that not only were they going to the airport, but he had others with him that couldn't fly.

"Come on, lads. I dinnae want the new student lost in the airport," Sean shot back over his shoulder as he strode toward the front doors.

Remy LeBeau, Jubilation Lee, and Michael Mjanari trailed behind. Jubilee felt her breath coming in short bursts, a clear sign that they were moving way too fast. "Sean, can you slow down? Like please? I'm sure this kid has totally been in an airport before. Besides, if we're all like tired and sweaty, what kind of an impression are we going to make?"

"When did ye become concerned about impressions?" Sean smiled as they went through the sliding doors.

"Since this impression started killing me," she replied. "We have got to like slow down a bit."

"Well, this is way too slow for me," Michael said, hoping to rile Jubilee up.

Jubilee threw Michael a look. "Just because you're something like a speed demon hyped up on caffeine doesn't mean the rest of us should like keep up with you."

Sean sighed and shook his head. He glanced back to make sure Remy was still with them. Unlike Michael and Jubilee, Remy had been quiet on the trip over, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Sean didn't know what to think of the young man. Honestly, there was something about him that Sean didn't trust, but every time he felt an inkling of mistrust creep in, Sean chastised himself. Still, they didn't know anything about the boy's past or where he had come from. Ororo opted not to pressure him for details as to not alienate him, but Sean knew that what they didn't know about him would come back to haunt them.

Aside from being less sociable than the others, Remy only let bits of his personality surface when he was in the Danger Room. And Sean was impressed every time he watched a session. Not only was Remy acrobatically agile, but he could wield a staff with finesse and deadly precision. And he could hit a target within inches with his explosive cards.

Sean brushed off his thoughts, found that Josh was coming in at gate 20-B, and led the others to the gate, still ignoring Jubilee's pleas to slow down.

"So, Josh Foley…what can he do?" Michael asked.

Sean thought for a moment. "Well, from the dossier I read, the lad can somehow manipulate organic molecules to heal himself or others."

"That's something. He can heal people? That's got to be great."

Sean shook his head solemnly. "There's a dark side to his power too, one that he cannae control. After a traumatic experience, he developed the ability to create some kind of malevolent biological infestation that ultimately and quickly causes death. The lad is scared he's going to hurt someone, so he's coming here to learn more about his powers."

Michael immediately imagined a horrible mishap where Josh could have thought he was healing someone but instead accidentally killed them. Not only would it be a tragedy, but Michael couldn't imagine how he would feel if he inadvertently killed someone because of the misuse of his powers.

"So is that why most of the students are here, to learn about their powers?"

"Aye. But there are some that find a family at the school. Especially those that are rejected by their own parents and relatives."

"Just for being a mutant?"

"What are you? Like totally dense?" Jubilee chastised. "Maybe where you're from, people don't hate mutants, but on this side of the ocean, we're not exactly on good terms with the masses. And sometimes, that includes parents."

They walked the rest of the way in contemplative silence, making their way through the unusually crowded airport. Despite the crowd, Sean quickly spotted Josh Foley as he entered through the gate and glanced around, hoping to find someone that was looking for him too.

Sean had seen a picture of the boy, but in real life, he was momentarily stunned by Josh's golden skin. It seemed to radiate a light of its own, making him appear to be some sort of apparition or heaven-sent angel. His shaggy blond hair framed his boyishly handsome face, and his eyes told of a friendly-natured soul, though he clearly had a darker side to his ability.

"Josh! Josh Foley!" Sean called as he waved his arms in the air.

Jubilee groaned. "Really, do you have to make a huge scene? People are like beginning to stare."

"For once, I agree with Jubilee. Mr. Cassidy, we could just—" Michael was abruptly cut off by a rough yank and subsequent toss into the crowd. Jubilee turned only to receive a hard side kick in the midsection, which sent her sprawling into Remy. Sean noticed a second too late that something had happened. He was struck by a ferocious punch that sent him to the ground.

Suddenly, his assailant was on top of him, one hand clutching Sean's collar, and the other raised high, claws ready. Sean rocked back and forth, but suddenly realized how heavy his opponent was. "Sabretooth!" Sean croaked. "What the hell are ye doing here?"

"I'm simply here to enjoy ripping out your throat, meat," Sabretooth licked his tongue across his teeth, exposing feral canines.

Sean opened his mouth and a scream unlike anything Sabretooth had ever heard tore from his throat. Not only did it overload his keen sense of hearing, but the sound waves bombarded him physically, having the same momentum as a speeding train. Blown back, Sabretooth sailed through the air, lost his balance, and hit the ground hard.

Remy, having gotten himself and Jubilee to their feet, wordlessly whipped out four playing cards, all aces, hidden somewhere in the long trench coat he seemed to always wear. As they flew from his hands, the cards flashed with a crimson energy, only moments before they exploded, sending large chunks of metal and concrete crashing down on Sabretooth.

Jubilee ran to check on Sean, but before Remy could join her, he felt something wrap around his waist. He looked down and saw that a grotesquely elongated tongue held him fast. "Leaving the fight so soon?" Toad asked. With a spin and a flick, Remy was thrown into the far wall, right in Blockbuster's area.

"I'm going to have fun beating you to a pulp," Blockbuster grinned.

"Not as much as I'm going to have, mon ami."

Michael, having witnessed Toad's attack, tapped into his ability and launched forward at and incredible speed. Toad looked up too late as Michael crashed into him shoulder-first, sending the both of them tumbling across the floor.

Michael barely heard the screams or noticed the running of the crowds. Right now, his attention was solely on his opponent.

Toad acrobatically hopped to his feet and grinned at Michael. "A new X-Man, huh? This should be interesting," Toad smirked.

"I don't know who you are, but you won't surprise me again."

"We'll see about that," Toad laughed as his tongue lashed out, whistling through the air like a bull whip. Michael reacted accordingly, each swing of Toad's tongue missing him by mere inches due to his heightened agility. Each of Michael's moves was graceful and well-timed, only serving to annoy Toad.

Changing his tactics, Toad whipped his tongue behind him, tearing a row of chairs from one of the gate areas, and flung it towards Michael. The crowd screamed as the chairs flew through the air, and Toad grinned as he sprang himself into the air. He figured that Michael wouldn't be fast enough to dodge both the chairs and Toad's attack. But he was wrong.

Michael ducked low as the chairs sailed over his head, barely missing the crowd of fleeing patrons. Then he rolled to the side, Toad's stomp just missing his body. With a well-timed low kick to Toad's knee, Michael threw him off balance. He followed through by planting a high kick right to Toad's face. And for the finish, a near perfect spin kick.

Toad stumbled back, surprised and pissed. "So you want a fight, eh?" Toad leaped forward, flipped in mid-air, and planted both his feet in Michael's chest. He bounced off Michael and landed in a low stance, one hand on the ground and the other extended out to the side.

Pain shot through Michael's chest as he reeled from the attack. Before he realized what was happening, Michael was on the ground, gasping for air. Coughing, disoriented, and hurt, Michael tried to rise to his feet, but his body was far from cooperative. Michael realized that he had let himself become a vulnerable target, solely at the mercy of Toad.

"One crushed X-Kid coming up!" Toad laughed as he sprang into the air. He bounced off the ceiling, flipped, legs first, and sailed downward toward Michael.

A spectacular display of fireworks suddenly erupted in Toad's path. Toad screamed as the fireworks both blinded and deafened him, throwing him off balance. He hit the ground hard.

"You okay?" Jubilee stood over Michael, still keeping an eye on the unmoving Toad.

Michael rubbed his chest, still weak from the blow. "I think so. Thanks," Michael let Jubilee help him to his feet. "The fireworks...was that you?"

Jubilee held up her hand and let a small firework pop with a small _paf_.

"Come on, I think Remy needs help. Sean's getting Josh now," Jubilee said as they ran toward Remy's fight with Blockbuster. "Sean thinks they're after him."

"Why? How would they have known that he was coming?" Michael asked.

"Not sure. We can totally figure that out later. Right now, Gambit's fighting against this totally weird muscle guy. His clothes were like mega-tacky. And I think he's strung out on steroids."

Michael held back a laugh, not wanting to appear to diminish the gravity of the situation. But honestly, aside from a few painful blows, he was enjoying himself. He had never used his powers offensively or defensively before, and now he found himself fighting alongside the infamous X-Men. There was no way his friends would believe him when he told them.

Jubilee and Michael turned the corner to witness Gambit doing a series of back handsprings, as Blockbuster swung wildly, growing more agitated by the minute.

"Hold still, you bastard!"

"No need to resort to name callin', mon ami," Gambit joked as he sprang higher in the air. He moved much too fast to determine where the staff had come from, but with a flick of his wrist, a full length staff snapped into existence. A quick swing grazed Blockbuster's head.

Remy landed and immediately launched into a deadly dance with his staff, showcasing not only refined grace, but deadly precision. Each hit was like a small explosion as Gambit charged the staff between each swing.

Blockbuster threw a few more punches, but either Remy dodged or the staff saved him from the hit. Finally, Remy connected with Blockbuster's jaw, giving him an explosive uppercut that lifted him off his feet.

In a fraction of a second, Blockbuster felt Remy's staff jutting into his ribs as Remy loomed over him. "No matter how much you play X-Man, they'll find out what you did."

"You always talked too much," Remy said as he charged his staff and came down with another explosion.

"Gambit, are you okay?" Jubilee asked as they approached him.

"Remy's fine. Not so sure about Blockbuster here." Remy noted that she didn't ask about what Blockbuster had said, so he presumed they hadn't heard. Good.

"Where's Sean?" Jubilee asked.

"Right here, lass," Sean replied as he turned the corner with Josh trailing close behind. Josh appeared to be just as confused as they were about the sudden commotion.

"Are ye okay, lads?" Sean asked. He noted the fallen figures of Blockbuster and Toad. "Looks like ye didnae need my help. Let's get out of here before—"

Sean pitched forward, as the world suddenly turned upside down. His insides churned and his head felt like it was going to explode. He managed to see Michael, Josh, Remy, and Jubilee in similar shape, slowly sinking to the ground in defeat.

Sean managed to scan the crowd and saw a beautiful woman, who stood out from everyone else. Her fair complexion and light, green-tinted hair told Sean that she was in league with the others. And her malicious smile told him that she was responsible for their current condition.

"You—" Sean croaked.

"The name's Vertigo. And you can guess what I can do."

Sean inhaled deeply, ready to unleash a sonic scream, but a burst of pain from behind knocked the wind out of him. He turned to see a ghost walking toward him. As Sean's vision blurred and faded to darkness, he could swear that he had just been attacked by a crimson blast of energy. And the only person he knew with that talent was Scott Summers.

"Alex, get Sabretooth away from underneath that rubble. I'll deal with his incompetence later," Scott directed. Alex nodded in compliance, and headed off in that direction. "Sinister, this is Cyclops. We have the target in hand."

"Excellent," Sinister's voice came loud and clear though the radio. "Retrieve the subject and evacuate the area immediately. Leave the interfering X-Men. They have no idea of our plans, so we'll keep them in the dark for a bit longer."

"Understood. Cyclops out."

Scott looked at the fallen figure of Sean, wondering why the Irishman seemed familiar.

"Cyclops," Vertigo interrupted his thoughts. "We need to go. Alex has Sabretooth and Toad. "

"Right," he replied. Giving the heroes one last look, he grabbed Josh, and quickly followed Vertigo through a circle of light. In a matter of minutes, the entire crew that had invaded the airport were gone, all having travelled to a destination unknown through the mysterious portal. Already, the witnesses' memories were becoming misconstrued and by the time the police arrived, no one would agree on who or what they exactly saw.

X.

While Ororo and her team of X-Men investigated the horror that befell the Sea Breeze, the X-Jet, courtesy of Charles Xavier and piloted by Forge, carried Moira MacTaggart, Jaime Madrox, and David Haller to a remote desert in Egypt. The exact location—the Worthington Incorporated excavation site.

Only hours ago, Moira received a call from Charles Xavier. Delighted that he was doing well, Moira could tell something was wrong. Charles, without much explanation, wanted her to investigate the excavation site, which the main headquarters had lost contact with several days before. In addition, much to Moira's horror, Warren Worthington III, had gone to the site and was now missing along with the members of the dig.

Forge flew there promptly and picked up Moira. To his dismay, Moira insisted on bringing along Jaime Madrox, an ex-criminal that stood with Magneto during the Alcatraz incident. He had willingly conspired with Magneto and even created duplicates of himself to throw off the tactical team sent in to stop Magneto.

However, his lawyer, Evangeline Whedon, somehow finagled him a deal where he could stay on Muir Island and serve his time doing "community service." Honestly, he turned out to be a helping hand, though his constant wisecracking caused more than a fair share of arguments with some of the other scientists and patients there.

Despite her initial mistrust, Moira found herself impressed with Jaime's dedication to work, once he set his mind to do something. He would create duplicates for some of the bigger jobs, but would reabsorb them before they caused any trouble. Even Jaime himself seemed to be enjoying walking the right side of the law these days. So when Moira had a chance to take him off the island, after some pleading and promising of his entire life's savings, Moira opted to bring him along.

She also brought along a teenager, David Haller. According to records Forge had seen, the boy had vast psychic abilities to include pyrokinesis, telekinesis, and telepathy. However, the vast about of psychic energy harnessed by David made his personality suffer. Quiet and reclusive, David would often rather sit in his room alone than interact with anyone else. Having no desire to see the outside world, David hadn't been off the island since his arrival at the age of eight, after he was involved in a traumatic terrorist attack. Moira thought this would be a good chance for him to see something besides the island.

Forge wished that Moira had brought along her charge, Rahne Sinclair, or Amanda Sefton. Even the crass Pete Wisdom would have been better company than Jaime. But maybe David, despite his issues, would liven up a little being away from Muir Island.

Moira sat in the back, to watch over Jaime, even though she told him it was to tend to David. Jaime, managing to agitate Forge within fifteen minutes of being on the aircraft, was content to converse with Moira and David. Actually, it was a one-sided conversation—Jaime talked and they listened.

For the most part, Moira simply nodded in response, able to tune him out to let her mind ponder over some of the research projects she was working on, to include a rare strain of an unknown virus assumed to only affect mutants. She couldn't tell if David was listening or simply ignoring Jaime. He simply stared at Jaime as he spoke, David's mind probably processing over a million thoughts every second at the same time.

"We're getting close. Make sure you're all buckled in," Forge announced as he made a sharp turn. "Dammit!"

Hearing the tense tone in his voice, Moira asked, "Forge, what's wrong? Did somethin' happen?"

Forge flipped switches and appeared to glance back and forth over the control panel. "There's electromagnetic interference stemming from the location of the site to a radius of about fifty miles. It's messing with the readouts and controls. Hang on, I'm going to go to full manual."

Moira turned in her seat, tightened David's seatbelt, gave him a reassuring smile, and then tightened her own seatbelt. She saw Jaime follow suit.

Forge pressed a button, which revealed a distorted, yet still visible schematic map of the area with their relative location displayed as a latitude and longitude coordinate in the bottom right corner. He pinpointed that they were right above the landing pad for the site, and without instruments, proceeded to land the X-Jet with relative ease, setting her down smoothly, despite lack of visibility.

"How does it look?" Moira asked as she drew close to peer out of the co-pilot seat window.

"Not sure. I'm getting some funky readings. I can't determine what's causing the interference though. But it's the reason why none of the satellites can reach this place."

Moira felt an uneasy feeling creep into her stomach and she almost told Forge to take off immediately. There was something dangerous about this place, which she should have discerned earlier after reading the reports. But Moira wasn't one to be overly concerned with personal danger. Until now.

And she wasn't concerned about her own safety. David's as well as Jaime's too.

Despite her misgivings, she let Forge continue to decipher the mystery surrounding the interference, but after a few minutes, he couldn't reveal the origin or contact anyone outside the aircraft.

"We're going to have to go out there," Forge said.

"Yuir right. There could still be people out there."

"Are you serious? Don't you two watch horror movies? You're going to go venturing into the thick fog looking for people that have probably been turned into zombies or whatever the fog is hiding. No sir. I'm staying right here. When you guys are getting torn limb by limb by the fog monster, don't call my name."

"Yuir a grown man, and ye know there's no such thing as ghouls. Dinnae talk about such things so freely. You'll scare David."

"Shouldn't we be scared of him? I mean, he's the one with the psionic psychosis."

"Jaime Madrox!"

Jaime held his hands up in defense. "Okay, okay. I won't say anything else." He turned around to David. "But I'm keeping an eye on you kid. Both eyes."

David returned with a blank stare for only a moment then focused back on the fog outside. They didn't know but he did. The being out in the fog that wanted them to come. It waited for them.

And David knew almost instinctively that only the strong would survive.

X.

Ororo Munroe glided the Blackbird over the city limits, having already activated its cloaking device and engine silencer. Aside from normal air turbulence, the ride was incredibly smooth and fast. Spotting a clear lot next to the Sea Breeze, Ororo lowered the Blackbird and cut the engines, but kept the cloaking device on to hide it from curious passersby.

"The scene was left in tact by my request. Once we're done here, I'll have it cleared out. Keep in mind, it's not pretty."

The team unloaded and, led by Ororo and Bishop, headed into the crime scene.

The pictures Ororo saw last night did nothing to properly convey the gore and horror of the Sea Breeze. Aghast at the amount of blood, dismembered limbs, and stench of blood, Ororo summoned a slight breeze to aerate the facility, strong enough to give them fresh air but soft enough not to disturb the crime scene.

"What happened here?" Jean looked on the scene in horror and disbelief. She glanced over the multitude of body parts scattered about, noting the jagged wounds and claw marks. She was well aware of the destruction caused at Alcatraz, but this was something more horrific and ferocious. Whoever or whatever had done this wanted to send a message. But then the question became, who was the message for?

Bishop replied, "That's what we're here to find out."

"Let's spread out. Jean, can you keep us psychically linked?"

"Yes," Jean confidently replied.

"I'm prepared to take blood samples back to the lab," Hank said, already opening the case he brought along, complete with test tubes and other complex equipment.

Ororo and Logan took the second floor, while Jean and Bishop checked out the first floor. Hank was already hard at work collecting samples.

"The police want to stay away from this one," Bishop said to Jean. The two of them stepped carefully over the bodies, looking for any tell-tale clues that may lead them to whoever committed the murders.

"As long as mutants are killing other mutants, no one is concerned. Is that right, Detective?"

"Call me Bishop. And as much as I hate to admit it, yes. After the situation at Alcatraz, mistrust of mutants climbed to an all time high. And though Dr. McCoy has eased political tensions as Ambassador of Mutant Affairs, we still have a long way to go." There was a pause then Bishop asked, "So, are you planning on getting back into the fray?"

"I don't think so. Not after what happened at Alcatraz. I'm surprised you don't want to take me in."

"I'm smarter than that, Dr. Grey. I've seen some of your televised hearings to Congress. I also know that the life of a mutant is much more complex than normal. Cloning, time travel, ventures into space…it's all in a day's work for some of us. Besides, none of the news coverage of the event tied you in with the incident. It simply referred to you as an unidentified red-headed woman."

"From the sound of it, you seem like you're seasoned in the ways of the mutant."

"I've had an experience or two," Bishop smiled nostalgically. "But seriously, you were a strong spokeswoman for mutant rights. Your talents combined with Dr. McCoy's position could work wonders. It starts at the top."

"You sound more sure about it than I do."

"Sometimes, it takes confidence from outside to motivate one from inside. Understand?"

"You're awfully introspective for a detective, Bishop."

"It comes with time, trust me."

Jean felt the pain before she heard the moan. "Bishop, someone's still alive!" Instead of trying to delicately prance over the mutilated bodies, Jean lifted herself into the air and flew across the room.

_"I found someone!"_ Jean psionically informed everyone as she landed by the victim's side. In moments, Bishop arrived and watched as Jean telekinetically removed some rubble that had the girl trapped. But the rubble wasn't the cause of the girl's wavering vitals—her abdomen was torn to shreds, revealing jagged insides and muscle underneath torn skin.

Jean leaned next to the girl, grasping her hand. The girl squeezed back, tears streaming down her face. A quick mind scan told Jean that the girl's name was Tommy and that she was running from someone. Taking care to be delicate with the mind scan, Jean was unable to discern anything else. The girl's mind was a jumble of confusion and pain. And her present state didn't help.

Tommy moved her eyes slowly to gaze at Jean. She winced as though just moving her eyes sent waves of pain through her body. Jean closed her eyes, using a technique Professor Xavier had taught her, which prevented the perception of pain. She blinked in response, suddenly aware of the absence of pain.

"It…doesn't…hurt…"

Jean smiled warmly. "I know."

_"She's not going to make it,"_ Bishop psionically communicated to Ororo and Logan, who had arrived on the scene.

_"He's right. She's barely holding on,"_ Jean cemented Bishop's comment. To Tommy, Jean said, "We're here to help. We want to find the people that did this to you."

Tommy nodded slowly. "They…weren't human…they were monsters…heralds…for Apocalypse…" she trailed off, drained.

Jean did another mind scan, deeper this time. She opened up Tommy's mind to the others as she dove through the memories. They could feel the terror and panic tearing through the girl as someone or some people fought against the Morlocks. She could feel Tommy's screams as her friends were torn apart. Tommy finally got a good glimpse of the assailants, which meant Jean and the others got a good look.

"By the goddess," Ororo said aloud. "It cannot be."

Jean gently pulled away from the girl, taking a good look at her.

"Find them…" Tommy whispered as if she knew that Jean had read her mind. "Kill them…" then without another breath, Tommy went limp, her hand slipping out of Jean's.

"Ororo, what's wrong?" Bishop asked, still reeling form the scene.

Jean sensed what Ororo feared. "We can't be sure until we get back. Hank, I've got to use Cerebro. I'll transfer the mental images to our database then run a physical comparison. We'll find out exactly who the culprits are then."

Ororo shook her head. "Even without the official results, I know that we have found our missing teammate. And he is now our enemy."

Bishop noticed something protruding ever so slightly from Tommy's pocket. Kneeling down, Bishop carefully slipped it out and studied it for a moment.

"Find somethin'?" Logan asked.

"I don't know. It's a playing card. An ace."

Logan thought for a moment. It only took a whiff for Logan to pinpoint where it had been. "The card reeks of Gambit."

Ororo shook her head. "Bishop, if you need to, take Remy in for questioning. My mind is reeling at the destruction and death here and the fact that one of our teammates may somehow be involved. I would rather not take a chance with Gambit."

"Done," Bishop said, slipping the card in his pocket.

Solemnly, they finished investigating the area, but found nothing else. Thought the rest of the local investigation was uneventful, all of their minds were racing and each one wondered what lie ahead of them in the upcoming days. They hoped for the best. Or to at least avoid the same fate as the Morlocks.

Notes:

Diana Fox was an alias that Sage used in New Excalibur.

Jimmy: Thanks for the review. I hope I avoided certain doom with this chapter. I had a HUGE case of writer's block, and I didn't think anyone was following the story anymore. Thanks for the wakeup call!


	13. Chapter 13

I.

While Moira was in the X-Jet, exploring outside seemed like the next logical step and a good idea. However, once stepping foot into the misty unknown, she felt vulnerable. And watched.

Moira pulled her leather jacket closed in an attempt to keep out the thick moisture as they advanced into the fog, away from the safety of the X-Jet. "Forge, are ye pickin' up any readings?"

Forge held a device that resembled a Gameboy but was obviously far more advanced, comprised of alien technology that only he and Hank even partially understood. The device was supposed to project biothermal readings of the area onto the screen then with a push of a button, give the chemical makeup of the object. In the case of a mutant, it could also pinpoint the X-gene, a particular strand of DNA that differentiated mutants from humans.

But right now, it didn't seem to be working.

"Nothing. The electromagnetic interference is messing with its functionality." Forge powered it off and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "I guess we'll do this the old fashioned way and simply split up. We'll try to find anyone that's—"

"Wait a second. Aren't you the genius of the group? How could you suggest something so stupid? Splitting up? Come on. You're asking for one of us to be eaten by the fog monster," Jaime ranted.

Moira brought her hand to her temple, massaging a slight headache that had developed. "Jaime, surely ye dinnae want us to take ye seriously."

Jaime shrugged. "You know what? I'm going with the kid. Children always get away from the monster." Jaime walked past David, signaling him to follow. David looked toward Moira for permission, and only after she rolled her eyes and nodded did David fall in behind Jaime. They disappeared quickly into the fog, leaving Moira and Forge to search.

"You know, I can make a device that will attach permanently to his mouth and keep it shut."

Moira smiled. "Aye. Put my order at the top o' yuir list." Shifting the conversation, Moira said, "So what do ye think happened here?"

"I don't know. But right now, it looks as though everyone's disappeared without a trace."

Moira immediately thought of popular disappearance cases where masses of people simple disappeared without any sign of struggle. They were simply gone. But Moira didn't figure this was one of those cases. Something had happened to these people, Warren included, and Moira felt that it was something terrible. And it would only be a matter of time before they discovered what it was.

She didn't have to wait long.

"D—doctor?" David loudly stammered. It wasn't often that David spoke, which is initially what alarmed Moira.

Without a word between them, Moira and Forge launched toward the sound of his voice and the direction they had initially headed in. The fog was thick, but Moira and Forge reached him quickly and without much trouble.

Moira immediately noticed David's odd demeanor. He was staring off in an easterly direction, his face pale and hands slightly trembling.

"Where is Jaime?" Moira suddenly felt a chill, and she immediately imagined the worst. That something had been in the fog and had attacked Jaime, soundlessly and ruthlessly. But when Moira followed his gaze, she saw that the body David stared at wasn't Jaime's. However, it was still a dead body, ravaged beyond belief.

As Moira focused, her knees threatened to buckle, and she lost her vision for fraction of a second. Shaking her head, Moira took a hesitant step forward, convinced that the horror she now saw was nothing more than some grotesque mirage, created though some high-level scientific means that Hank McCoy would be interested in.

But as the metallic odor of blood, carried on the light breeze, intermingled in the fog, hit Moira's face, she knew that it was all real.

Bodies torn apart. Blood and other unidentifiable internal body part were strewn about, carelessly discarded as if a child had finished playing with its toy. If she didn't know better, Moira wouldn't have been able to tell that anything there had once belonged to a human. It was a slaughterhouse, full of gore and guts, mixed with the mysterious fog with sand sprinkled on top.

"My god," Moira murmured, stricken by the scene. Her mind raced to find an explanation, but nothing she came up with would even come close to explaining the destruction of lives on display.

"They're all dead," Jaime said, reappearing from the fog, starling Moira. "Sorry, I didn't want the kid seeing anymore than he had to. There are bodies are all over the place." It wasn't often that the jokester was silent, but this was enough to quiet him and to induce nightmares for a good few weeks. "One of you smart people need to fill me in. What the hell happened here?"

From Forge's perspective, he was less concerned about multitude of dead bodies and more worried about what had done this. And more importantly, if it resided in the large, dark pyramid towering much higher than the pyramids he had ever read about. His eyes were drawn back to the mess of bodies and debris, nearly unidentifiable due to being half buried in sand. Presumably, after the damage had been wrought, a severe sand storm whipped through, erasing and burying any evidence they may find.

Though he too was horrified and disgusted at the scene, he already started piecing things together and looking for clues to help him.

"There's someone here," David ominously said. His deep brown eyes stayed locked on something that the rest of them couldn't see.

Moira turned to the boy. "Are ye using your power? Who is it that ye feel?"

"I don't know," David absently took a few steps toward a pile of debris and stopped. "Here." He closed his eyes and with but a thought, the debris rose into the air then hovered there.

"Someone's there!" Jaime said as he ran to the collapsed figure's side. Not really concerned about the heavy weight of the debris floating over his head or whether David could suspend it there long enough, Jaime assessed the downed figure for injuries. Then lifting him up, Jaime cleared the area, before David let the heavy debris slam back to the ground.

He set the boy down gingerly and said, "We've got to get him treatment."

Moira nodded, noting the young man's shallow breathing and various abrasions. "Jaime, can ye carry him to the X-Jet?" After Jaime nodded, she continued, "There's a small medical station in the back. Hook the lad to an I.V. then clean and wrap his wounds."

"Got it," Jaime lifted the limp boy into his arms then disappeared into the fog in the direction of the X-Jet. Forge and Moira fell in behind Jaime, expecting David to follow along, but it was Moira that noticed David lingering behind, still staring off into the dense fog.

Moira instantly regretted bringing him along. She had underestimated the gravity of the situation and inadvertently exposed David to something that could lead to permanent mental scarring. Even she, being of complete and sound mind, would have nightmares about this place.

Closing the distance between them, Moira quietly asked, "David, we're goin' now, lad. Are ye okay?"

David nodded absently. "I'm fine. But there's something else here."

"Something else?" Moira repeated. She rubbed her moist hands together and glanced around, suddenly aware of their vulnerability. Moira could swear that eyes were staring at them, hidden just behind the curtain of fog surrounding them. And it was only a matter of time before they saw those eyes. Then teeth.

Moira shook the images out of her mind. She knew there were no such things as monsters in the storybook sense. But the person or people that did this—they were monsters. And to Moira, those kinds were far worse than any boogieman.

She stood next to him and looked out into the fog where she presumed David was looking. "I dinnae see anythin' out there, lad. Is there someone else trapped?"

David shook his head. "It's him. He wants the strong ones. He wants them all."

"The strong ones? What about the rest?" Moira asked, suddenly feeling like whatever was just beyond the fog was somehow closing in.

David waited a moment before replying. In that moment, the wind rustled through what was left of the camp, making sounds like whispered, dying screams. "The rest? They will die."

She felt her blood run cold at the matter-of-factness in his voice. _He wants the strong ones…he wants them all…the rest will die_, echoed again in her mind as Moira tried to break down what he was saying. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't rid the statements of their ominous and dangerous weight.

All at once, it seemed to explain what had happened over the past few days. The mutant massacre Charles told her about, where the Morlocks were slaughtered by an unknown force, because they were weak. The attack on the camp, because they were weak. But Warren, somehow this entity had thought him to be strong and had taken him for whatever devious purpose it had in mind.

And they could be next.

"Come on, David," Moira grabbed his hand firmly, and led him back to the X-Jet, every so often glancing over her shoulder to ensure nothing was sneaking up on them. David held her hand tightly, signaling his own fear at the something he felt in the fog. _I should have never brought him here_, Moira kept repeating in her head.

"Forge, take off now!" Moira forcefully commanded as she stepped into the plane. In a flash, she ensured David was strapped in, the boy on the hospital bed was secure, and Jaime was good. "Now, Forge!"

Forge wasn't used to seeing Moira in such a panicked state. She was the calm, cool one of the group. But something had her spooked, so Forge simply moved as quickly as he could and in no time, they were in the air.

After a few minutes, Forge turned to check on the passengers, focusing in on Moira. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry about earlier. But we needed to get away from that place. It was just a feeling I had," she said turning to David. They locked eyes, and for a moment, Moira saw a mental flash of a face, death blue and hideously deformed. And somehow, maybe it David told her telepathically, she knew the entity that David felt was this individual.

"Are we headed back to Muir Island to take care of the kid?" Jaime asked.

"No. We've got to find out what ravaged that camp and what's next. And try to help this poor lad," Moira glanced at the still body lying on the medical cot. Resolving herself, Moira took a breath then said, "We need the X-Men."

"I can stop them, sire," Ozymandias stared after the X-Jet with contempt.

_"Let them go, Ozymandias,"_ a deep, booming telepathic voice commanded.

Ozymandias, not telepathic himself, spoke aloud. "I shall obey your will, Lord Apocalypse, but please, tell me why we would let trespassers go unpunished for their transgression against your land?"

_"They are but grains of sand of the great desert, inconsequential in the grand scheme of events. Their escape will only bring those that are more powerful to my attention. Those who will serve me in the Age of Apocalypse."_

"But Lord, the firebird and spear, I—"

_"Spare me ancient prophesies. Such elements do not exist in this world."_

"I only want to ensure your awareness of any threat to your reign, Lord Apocalypse."

_ "I shall bear no mind to such ancient metaphors retold by prophets, unworthy to comprehend the texts they claim to translate. There are none in this time that are powerful enough to stop me."_

Ozymandias said nothing. He did his best not to project his true thoughts, so Apocalypse wouldn't know. But he thought Apocalypse to be overconfident and blind to his own mortality, especially if the prophesy was true.

_Behold, at first sight of the firebird of the cosmos that wields the mind staff of future ages, death will befall the great Apocalypse._

Apocalypse continued, _"They will bring the strong, those worthy to rule at the side of the great Apocalypse. Patience, Ozymandias."_

"Yes, Lord Apocalypse," Ozymandias bowed reverently as the telepathic link was cut.

Though he disagreed with Apocalypse, he knew that the trespassers would return. Then he would ensure to separate the chaff from the wheat.

II.

Michael Mjnari was immersed in darkness, and he couldn't exactly remember why. And that's what scared him most. Floating in a dark void, Michael struggled to find a direction to escape his black prison, but to no avail. He was stuck within himself with no way to escape.

But then like a faded dream, images began to appear, jogging his memory. Meeting Josh Foley at the airport. Sean's expedient strides and Jubilee's complaints about it. Remy's now characteristic silence. Sabretooth's ferocious attack. The fight with Toad. Jubilee's save. Remy defeating Blockbuster. Then Vertigo's surprise attack which rendered them unconscious.

As it came back to him, Michael found the darkness shifting into a hazy fog. Only after a few blinks did the fog sharpen into definite shapes and images. The airport. Police. Reporters. And Sean Cassidy.

"Are ye okay, lad?" the Irishman asked, leaning over him.

Michael took a breath and sat up much too fast. Immediately, the entire world seemed to shift and a wave of nausea churned his stomach. Michael shut his eyes again, but it only made things worse, like he was stuck in the world's fastest merry-go-round. Reopening his eyes, Michael groaned and rubbed his temples.

"What's wrong with me?" Michael groggily asked. He let Sean help him to his feet and stayed braced against him. Though he would rather walk on his own, Michael was glad Sean was there to help him through the disorientation that still lingered.

"Looks like yuir still feelin' the effects of Vertigo's attack. Let's get ye t' a medic."

Sean led Michael over to a young-looking medic, who took a look at him quickly, bandaged a small abrasion on his arm, and sent them on their way. As they neared Jubilee and Remy, who looked as if they had been awake for a while, Michael's stomach settled and the world came to a virtual standstill once again.

As the feeling passed, it was then that Michael fully noticed the swarm of policemen questioning patrons and ushering people past the debris. There were reporters already on the scene and other officers warding them off. From what Michael could gather, the reporters were making it some kind of mutant terrorist crime against the airport. _Way to misconstrue what happened for ratings_, Michael sourly thought. But he was in no position to protest, though it took everything he had not to shout at the reporters.

He then wondered about their own well-being. Jubilee made it sound as though everyone hated mutants. If the reports didn't specify who had actually attacked the airport, it would be easy for them to get blamed just because they were mutants. Though it wasn't fair, Michael was coming to find that being a mutant already tipped the scales against them.

Just like it wasn't fair that Josh Foley had been abducted. In broad daylight. For reasons unknown to them and probably Josh too.

As if reading his thoughts, Sean said, "I've already talked to the police. Luckily, I still have some ties with Interpol. That's the only reason we're being left alone and not bein' blamed for the incident. If yuir feelin' better, we should clear out before long."

Michael nodded in reply, understanding the situation. He didn't know how he would fare in a car, especially the way Sean drove, but right now, he wanted to be out of the airport, away from all of the bustle that was quickly escalating.

Michael asked, "Josh…he's gone, isn't he?"

"Aye. It's obvious those ruffians were after the lad. Hopefully, we'll be figurin' out why before too long."

Such a brazen attack seemed ominous and strange. Michael always imagined people getting kidnapped in the late of night when they were by themselves in some seedy part of town. But instead, Josh was taken right under their noses in the middle of a busy airport. These guys were desperate or they were just ballsy. Either way, the situation didn't sit right with Michael in the least. He knew that Sean was right, but at the same time, Michael felt as though they should be tracking down Josh's kidnappers and bringing them to justice.

It was then that Michael decided that he wouldn't rest until he found out exactly what was going on.

Sean let Michael walk on his own as they crossed the airport, nearing Jubilee and Remy. Before they were in earshot, Sean said, "I know what be runnin' through that head of yuirs, lad. Trust me, we're goin' t' find Josh and the criminals that took him."

The resolve in Sean's voice gave Michael the assurance that his words were a pledge, strong enough to topple a mountain.

"I'm going to help, Mr. Cassidy. I want to know why Josh was kidnapped. I want to know why mutants would want to hurt each other and endanger others in the crossfire." Michael turned and looked Sean in the eye. "I want to stop them from doing something like this ever again."

It had been a long time since Sean had seen such an expression of resolve in someone so young. Most teenagers these days were satisfied with a materialist, shallow existence, never challenging anything, never pursuing a dream. But he could tell that Michael was finding his dream to pursue. Much like Kitty. And Bobby. And Rogue.

"Don't worry, lad. This didnae seem like a random targeting. Someone was after Josh and had some way of knowin' he would be here. And they expected us. There's someone pulling the strings from the shadows, and that's who we be goin' after."

Sean seemed okay with the idea of letting Michael help. Now all Michael had to do was convince his godmother, Ororo. He sighed at the thought.

"Like, it's about time you woke up, Mikey," Jubilee joked. "I mean, like, if you're going to roll with us, you're gonna to have to toughen up."

Michael felt his face grow hot with slight embarrassment. "I'm fine. I just—"

Jubilee cut him off with a laugh. "You're like totally easy to get all wound up! Relax. It's no biggie. Trust me, that isn't going to be like the last time we see those goons, huh Sean?"

Sean nodded. "I'll be callin' the mansion when we get to the car. Charles should be able to use Cerebro to track the lad."

"Unless they've telepathically masked him," Remy suggested as he tapped his temple.

Sean led the way thought the crowd as they spoke. "Hopefully, they haven't thought that far ahead. If they have, then whoever's behind this may be more clever and powerful than we know."

They weaved through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances from witnesses and police alike. Michael could feel their eyes burning into their backs, and he restrained himself from looking back at them. All that would do was cause unnecessary trouble and delay their pursuit of Josh's kidnappers.

And if what Sean said was true, they couldn't afford to waste a second.

III.

Bobby Drake was propped over his Advanced Calculus book, trying to decipher the combination of numbers and symbols scattered on the page. But the harder he tried to concentrate, the more senseless it all became.

Groaning, Bobby shut the book then leaned back and stretched, fighting a loud yawn. An announcement for Logan and Dr. McCoy came over the intercom system from Ms. Munroe, which immediately indicated to Bobby that something was going on. And he waited for the follow-on announcement for him, Rogue, and Kitty, but it never came.

Disappointed, Bobby sighed and giving up on his homework, closed his book. Things were different—classes were harder and the staff was getting more strict as the days passed. He was sure it was because of the Professor's death. And Mr. Summers. And Dr. Grey. And Warren's disappearance.

There were so many things happening, yet Bobby felt as though he were now an outsider looking in. Somehow, the trust that had been placed in him as an X-Man had been lost. And he didn't know how to get it back. He tried to not let his own misgivings show, since Kitty was doing enough for all of them combined. But now, it was wearing on him, and more often, he would envision confronting Ms. Munroe and Logan, demanding why they were being shut out.

But it wouldn't get him anywhere but probably grounded even longer.

He then thought about Julian. They hadn't seen him since the night they found Dr. Grey. Bobby pushed back from the desk, deciding to visit Julian, when Kitty stormed through the door, using her intangibility with no regard to privacy.

"So why didn't we get the something's-going-on-and-we-need-your-help call from Storm?" Kitty, obviously fuming, began to pace, using her power to walk through the corner of the bed as she passed it each time. "I mean, I thought that the thing with Dr. Grey would have set us in good graces. I did help the Professor get close enough to help her. And all of you guys helped with the younger students. That should count for something, right?" Kitty grunted in frustration and flopped on the bed.

"Maybe it's nothing," Bobby replied. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince Kitty or himself. Either way, he wasn't doing a good job. And Kitty's expression told him so. "Things have been weird lately. And Warren's disappearance hasn't helped."

"Wait, what? Warren's vanished?" Kitty was truly surprised.

Bobby nodded. "I heard Dr. McCoy talking about it. Warren went down to Egypt to investigate a situation, but they lost contact with the site he had gone to. No one is sure what happened down there. I think Dr. MacTaggert is supposed to be checking it out."

Kitty replied, "The mutant massacre and Warren's disappearance. I don't think they're coincidence. But we don't know enough to piece them together."

"They might not be related at all," Bobby countered.

"I don't know…" Kitty began, but a knock at the door interrupted her next thought.

Rogue entered the room, followed by Sam. "Oh," she said at the sight of Kitty. "Ah didn't realize y'all were in here. Together. Alone," Rogue added special emphasis on the last two parts then cocked an eyebrow at Bobby.

"Wait a minute," Kitty stood, waving her hands in stark denial, "nothing like that is going on. We're just trying to figure out why the staff has been so edgy and put the pieces together between Warren's disappearance and the mutant massacre."

Rogue shook her head. "No need ta explain." Rogue took a seat, purposely distancing herself from Bobby, which he noted. "So, y'all think there's something else ta Warren's disappearance?"

"Maybe," Bobby answered. Really, he wanted to talk to Rogue and dispel whatever she thought was going on between Kitty and him. But there was no way he would do it in front of Kitty and Sam. Instead, he suddenly said, "Dr. McCoy said Julian could have visitors today, so I'm going to check on Julian. Anyone else want to come?"

Rogue caught Bobby's obvious attempt to switch gears. But maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, Kitty and Peter had some fling going on. So there was no need for her to be jealous. At least, that's what the rational part of her mind said. However, the other part swore that there were some kind of underlying feelings still lingering between the two of them. And it was only a matter of time before they manifested themselves in another kiss. Or something more.

"Ah'll go with ya," Sam offered. "Ah was just wonderin' how he was doin'."

"Maybe his attitude took a turn for the better," Kitty said as she stood and stretched. "Sure, I'll go too."

_Of course she wants to go too_, Rogue bitterly thought. "Ah'm sure three'll be enough. Ah don't want ta crowd him," Rogue said. But Bobby wiggled his hand into hers, and leaned toward her before she could pull away.

"You're not going to let me go by myself are you?" Bobby said.

"Ah thought ah said ah was goin' too," Sam interjected, slightly confused. A sharp elbow to his ribs from Kitty silenced him for the moment.

"We'll see you guys down there," Kitty said and grabbed Sam's hand. "Come on, Hayseed. No wonder why you don't have a girlfriend," her voice trailed off as she phased both herself and Sam through the door, leaving Rogue and Bobby alone.

"Rogue. What's wrong? Ever since Alcatraz, you've been acting strange."

Rogue bit her lip. She wanted to scream, yet her voice failed her, instead coming out as a choked whisper. "Ah saw y'all that night…the night Professor Xavier…y'all were ice skatin', and ya kissed her, Bobby." The look she gave Bobby wasn't one of anger or even agitation. It was disappointment. And it cut Bobby through to the core. "Ah put it out of mah mind, but now, Ah can't help but ta think that there's somethin' more to it. Ah know Ah didn't say anythin' before. But, Ah have ta know whether ya want to be with me or her."

_Yes, I want to be with you_, Bobby thought. Bobby opened his mouth to speak, but his voice never supplied the answer in his mind. But maybe it was because a part of him did like Kitty. And now, being put on the spot like this, Bobby had to make a choice. "Rogue, I—" Bobby hesitated.

Rogue covered his lips with one finger, silencing him. "Ah don't want ya ta say anythin'. Not now. Ah'll give ya time ta think. It'll give me time ta think too. Until then, we're teammates and friends." She paused. "But we're not together."

For the first time in a long time, Bobby felt cold, a chill of regret that pierced him through to the bone. And at that moment, Bobby realized that he cared about Rogue a lot more than he had given himself credit for. A ice hard lump sat in his throat, preventing him from saying anything, which was probably for the best.

Rogue leaned into him and kissed her finger, bringing her lips dangerously close to his but never touching. She then took a step back, blinking away her own stinging tears. "Well, we've gotta see Julian, right? Ah'll see ya in a few." Rogue spun on her heel and left Bobby without another glance.

And Bobby watched her go, the strength to stop her completely sapped from his body.

Notes:

Warren Worthington's disappearance happened waaaay back in Chapter 1.

The kiss Rogue is referring to occurred in X-Men: The Last Stand.

BlackIceAngel: Well, thanks for the review despite forgetting half the story…lol. Go back to chapter 1 and catch back up! This story sticks mostly to movie-verse, but for those hardcore comic-verse fans, there are a little bits and pieces of the comic thrown in as well. Let me know what you think of the new chapter.

Steely Phil Gordon: Yeah, I know. I let way too much time pass in between chapters. But I broke through my writer's block, and I'm back to posting a little more regularly. I appreciate the compliments and hope that the story continues to keep you coming back.

Ratdogtwo: I'll try. I expect a review of this chapter too!

Cassandra581: Oh don't worry, the X-Men are going to run into Scott quite soon. And it won't be pretty.

Descena: Thanks for the compliments, I swear I'm blushing right now.


	14. Chapter 14

I.

The Blackbird soared through the clear sky, piloted by Ororo Munroe and Jean Grey, occupied further by James Logan Howlett and Dr. Hank McCoy. As X-Men, they were Storm, Phoenix, Wolverine, and Beast, respectively. Detective Lucas Bishop was with them as well, having requested their assistance with what was being loosely called a mutant massacre.

Ororo glided the aircraft into a smooth turn then set a course for the airport.

Looking up from the stack of papers in his hand, Hank noted the change in course. "Where are we going?"

She replied, "I must know the truth about Remy. Given this situation, I cannot allow him to return to the mansion if he is guilty. I would rather not have such a confrontation in front of the other students. I shall accompany Detective Bishop to apprehend him." Ororo chanced a glance back at Bishop for an objection, but she saw none.

However, she could feel the disagreeing glares from Logan and Hank, and she wished that they would just speak their doubts aloud. But she knew that though they may disagree, they respected her position and decisions. They wouldn't stand in her way, which made this much easier.

Hank returned to his papers, and Logan continued to stare out of the window, both absorbed in their own evaluation of the situation. Despite her attention seemingly taken up with piloting, Ororo managed to sneak a glance toward Jean, who hadn't said much during the trip back.

Studying her surreptitiously, Ororo couldn't believe that the Jean Grey copiloting the Blackbird had wielded such a destructive power, killing several people without hesitation to include Charles and Scott. But Ororo had been there and had seen the transformation with her own eyes. And though it was hard to believe, Ororo forced herself to accept that Jean Grey could potentially be a dangerous threat. No matter how Jean looked now, she was responsible for all the things that had happened on Alcatraz.

However, Ororo had this nagging feeling about the whole situation since Jean's return. On some level, Ororo wanted to accept Jean wholeheartedly, forgiving her of everything that had happened. She wanted to pick up where they left off with late night talks of Scott, downtown shopping, and flying through the skies without a care in the world.

Even now, as Ororo observed Jean out of the corner of her eye, she saw the X-Man, Jean Grey, who she had come to respect and value as an integral part of the team. And regardless of what had happened, Jean had stepped up to take her place once again on the roster. And in light of the recent events, her presence was welcome and needed.

Still, Jean's betrayal left a cold place in Ororo's heart towards Jean. Though Ororo should have praised the goddess Jean had returned, the reunion was tainted with blood. Maybe everyone else had accepted Jean without hesitation, but it was her responsibility to ensure none of the other staff or students were in mortal danger. And there was a hint of concern for Jean too.

In the background, Ororo overheard Hank reviewing his forensic findings with Bishop and Logan. Seizing the opportunity, Ororo addressed Jean quietly. "Jean, I would like to know what happened."

Though to most others the statement would have seemed ambiguous, Jean knew exactly what Ororo wanted to know. She wanted to know about what led up to the final incident at Alcatraz. She wanted to know why Jean was now seated next to her on the Blackbird, reprising her role as copilot. She wanted to know if Jean was really who she said she was.

Jean caught the genuine softness and concern behind Ororo's cool demeanor, unlike the conversation they had in the med bay. This time, Ororo was making an effort, and Jean wanted to make an effort too.

Staring straight ahead into the vast blue sky, Jean responded as if she could see everything playing out in front of her. "When I was younger, I psychically experienced the death of my best friend, Annie Malcolm, before I even knew I had psychic abilities. I found myself with her on the astral plane as she slipped away. It was painful and dangerous—I almost died myself. But in the instant that Annie passed, I was touched by something alien…something that wanted to experience emotion. To touch, to feel, to live. I believe that was the first time the Phoenix made its presence known."

Hank had stopped talking when he heard Ororo's question, and he, along with Bishop and Logan, listened intently, their own curiosity getting the better of them. And they wanted to see how Ororo would handle the situation.

"Interesting," Hank absent-mindedly interjected, completely ignoring the fact that he wasn't a part of the conversation. Suddenly realizing it after he received a look from Ororo, Hank chuckled and said, "My apologies. Eavesdropping is not an admirable quality in this day and age. However, in certain situations, a listening ear and pertinent interjections can further clarify any claims. And to this one, I submit that I have read of a legendary firebird as old as time, worshipped by different cultures, revered for its ability to both create and destroy. In some cultures, it is known as the Phoenix," Hank said.

Though Ororo didn't want everyone involved, she realized it couldn't be helped. Instead, she accepted what Hank contributed and nodded for Jean to continue.

"I probably never will understand why it chose me or why it was suppressed for so long, but I lived with this connection to something powerful and dangerous. And it was dormant until just before the incident at Alkali Lake."

Ororo added, "I recall your nightmares and concern that something was going to happen. It was the doing of the Phoenix?"

Jean nodded. "I knew something was wrong and it was getting worse. The Phoenix was trying to break free, and I was afraid. I couldn't control it, and I didn't want to hurt any of you. That's why I left the Blackbird. I thought that if I stayed with you, I would become a danger to the school and to all of you." Jean shook her head regretfully, "But it didn't work out that way."

After a pause, Jean explained further, "Apparently, the Phoenix was powerful enough to create a solid projection of my body, taking my physical and psychological traits to create a host body for itself."

Ororo quickly pieced the situation together. "So at Alkali Lake, it was the Phoenix we found. You were still trapped underneath the lake."

"If not for the Phoenix, my body would have been crushed by the pressure. But it created a telekinetic cocoon, which also healed the injuries I had. In the meantime, the Phoenix is powerful, but to exist with a physical body, it required a vast amount of energy."

"Psychic energy and solar energy," Hank quickly deduced. "Charles and Scott."

"I honestly don't think it intended to kill Charles or Scott. But by the time you found her, the range of emotions it had absorbed and felt had tainted it, turning it into something dark and malevolent." Jean thought about telling them the truth about Scott, but she wasn't sure of it herself. She could feel Logan's eyes on her, trying to tell her to reveal what she knew, but now wasn't the right time. Not until she could talk to Charles.

"When Logan killed the Phoenix, its psyche came back to me. In my mind, I knew that I needed help, so I found someone who could."

"Julian Keller," Logan clarified.

"I've accepted what I've done and the responsibility I have with such power, Ororo. Make no mistake, every moment I relive and regret everything that happened. The Phoenix is a cosmic entity that I don't fully understand, but I intend to use this second chance I've been given to make things right."

The next few moments were silent as Ororo absorbed everything she had learned. The culprit that killed Charles and Scott wasn't Jean but a heinous clone that sought to experience life. The Jean sitting next to her now was the real one, the Jean Grey they had all thought lost. Twice.

But still, this seemed too easy. Too fairy tale happy ending-ish.

Ororo responded, "Though you have resolved yourself, I cannot give you my full trust…it is something you must regain. We shall see as time progresses how true you are to your words."

On some level, Jean was surprised by Ororo's cold response. They had been close. But maybe that was just it…their closeness was a thing of the past. She wasn't sure if the others felt the same, but at this point, Jean really didn't want to. It was hard enough dealing with one.

Jean thought about responding, about saying something to solidify her resolve to Ororo. But instead, Jean kept her concentration on the controls and said nothing. Though she tried not to, the thoughts of the others floated by like a faint scent on a breeze.

_Be strong, Doctor._ That was Bishop. Somehow, he understood what she was going through and for some reason had more faith in her than she had in herself.

_Jeanie, I'm here for ya'._ Logan. Jean knew that he would always be there, no matter what.

Hank's message was a bit more convoluted, something about a interplanetary journey and stars, but Jean was too tired to sort though it. She got the gist, which was, _I'm rooting for you._

Jean steadied herself then announced, "We're landing, guys. Buckle up. Are you taking the landing, Storm?"

Ororo noted the codename use. "I trust that you can handle it. Phoenix."

Little by little. That's how Ororo worked. And that's how Jean should work. Little by little, she would live and make up for what she had done. Step by step, Jean would re-establish her identity.

She wasn't the entity known as the Phoenix.

She wasn't a clone.

She was only Jean Grey. And beginning today, she is an X-Man once again.

II.

Sean watched as the Blackbird sailed overhead then descended on the other side of the parking lot. But it quickly took off again, leaving Sean to wonder what was going on. He increased his pace, leading Michael, Remy, and Jubilee through the parking lot and at the same time, ignoring random questions from lingering reporters and nosy passersby. It was only when they neared the car that Sean understood the reason for the landing.

Ororo and another man stood next to the vehicle. Sean figured that they had been dropped off by the Blackbird for a specific purpose. But they didn't know about the kidnapping yet, so something else was up. Sean felt a pinch of apprehension at the sight of their serious expressions.

"Fine entry ye made. 'Tis not like ye to pull off a stunt like that, Ororo. But maybe ye've already seen the news," Sean said. But Ororo's expression told him that she hadn't seen, but she wanted to know immediately what happened. Sean retold the events, Michael and Jubilee interjecting certain parts of the story Sean didn't cover, and concluded with the fact that Josh was gone.

"Josh Foley was kidnapped?" Ororo repeated. Though she was surprised, her expression belayed nothing of the sort, maintaining the cool composure Ororo was well-known for. "I cannot believe that such a move was made in broad daylight. Thank the goddess none of you were hurt."

Sean Cassidy nodded in agreement. "Aye. But we were caught off guard. Sabretooth. Blockbuster. Vertigo. Toad."

Ororo cocked an eyebrow. "Sabretooth and Toad? I thought we were rid of them after the Ellis Island incident. This is disturbing," Ororo seemed to fall into much deeper thought than usual, setting off an alarm for Sean, but he said nothing, instead turning his attention to Bishop.

"So Foley was kidnapped?" Bishop rhetorically asked. "Where did they take him?"

Jubilee folded her arms and looked at Bishop as if he were lower than mold under a rock. "Are you like serious? Do you think we'd be here bumpin' our gums with you while the new kid was hauled off to a place we like knew of? Puh-lease. Are you dense or something? Of course we don't know where they freakin' went with him."

"Jubilee," Sean used a tone that obviously meant for her to settle down.

She continued to shake her head and mumble. "I swear. Asking totally retarded questions. Like we know where they went. Dumb people work my nerves."

Sean shook his head in slight embarrassment. "The lass be needin' lessons in talkin' t' strangers. Speakin' of, I dinnae think we've been acquainted, mister..."

"Detective Lucas Bishop, N.Y.P.D." Like second nature, Bishop opened his black leather jacket, exposing a shiny badge just on the inside, but only for a mere second. He seemed to be focused on Remy who stood to the rear of the group, leaning against the car next to Sean's. "And you're Sean Cassidy. Ex-undercover agent for Interpol, long-time X-Man."

"Seems ye know a wee much about my past."

"I make it a point to know as much about my allies as I do my enemies, Mr. Cassidy."

Ororo added, "My apologies, Sean. Detective Bishop has requested our aid with a recent mutant massacre. I did not want to cause unnecessary panic, so I opted to see the situation for myself before informing the school."

"A mutant massacre?" Michael repeated. Never had he heard the two terms used so easily together. But he knew that his godmother chose her words wisely, which is what worried him the most. Instantly, he imagined the mutants that attacked them at the airport making short work of unsuspecting mutants. But then, Michael reversed his thought process. Anyone that was willing to massacre people would surely have killed them without a second thought.

There was someone or something much more dangerous out there.

"The mutants calling themselves the Morlocks were viciously slaughtered," Bishop explained. Though he responded to Michael, Bishop surreptitiously kept an eye on Remy. As if bothered by Bishop's words, Remy shifted, the exact thing Bishop was hoping for. "A young woman managed to survive for only a few minutes after we found her. Tommie was her name."

Remy cast a glance toward Bishop, and caught the man staring him down. Bishop thought he would look away, but the Cajun kept his crimson eyes locked with his.

Ororo noticed the non-verbal standoff between Bishop and Remy, and suddenly wondered if it was a good idea to turn Remy over so easily. After all, they had only found a card, which Logan had pinpointed Remy's smell on, which happened to be on a girl that died moments after, which was among the dead bodies of a countless number of mutants.

Things didn't look good for Remy, and unless he proved otherwise, Ororo decided she would wash her hands of him quickly and remorselessly.

Michael, unaware of the situation unfolding, said, "I can't believe that someone could so easily kill so many. I won't let this go." He turned to his godmother, the fire of determination burning deeply in his brown eyes. "Ororo, I want to help."

Despite the distraction, Ororo smiled warmly. "The life of an adventurer runs thorough your blood, young one. Your mother, Kayla, gained country-wide fame for her endeavors as a well-known reporter. She had many brushes with death, yet managed to evade them all. And your father..." Ororo chuckled as if remembering a fond memory. "He was quite an upstart himself. They will be glad, yet somewhat worried, to learn their son has followed in their footsteps.

Michael eyed her with skepticism. "That was way too easy. I thought you were going to lecture me and keep me sheltered away from all this."

Ororo shook her head. "Michael, I could easily try to stop you. But I am slowly learning that a young heart's desire cannot be quelled by any force of nature. I must warn you, this will not be an easy journey. You will disagree with many things and your eager heart could be hurt. But you must continue on whatever path you choose, always following what is right."

Michael felt like he was going to explode with pure joy. "I will."

Ororo's warm expression melted into one of stone cold business. "Now, I must follow what I feel is right. Bishop…"

Moving much more quickly than a man of his size should have, Bishop grabbed for Remy and in a quick, fluid self-defense maneuver, twisted Remy's arm behind his back and pushed up, threatening to dislocate his shoulder.

"What is dis?" Remy struggled against Bishop but only a little. He had already formulated several ways that he could defeat Bishop from his position in three moves or less. But Remy knew that wouldn't help his situation. If they had found out his past from Tommie, then escaping now would damage his character even more.

Bishop scoffed, "What does it look like? You're under arrest, LeBeau. And I will use lethal force if I need to. Trust me, you don't want that."

"Let him go!" Jubilee screamed.

"He didn't do anything!" Michael pleaded to both Bishop and Ororo. "Remy fought against the guys that tried to take Josh. You're arresting the wrong guy."

"Storm, what the Sam Hell is goin' on?" Sean was ready to cut loose a sonic scream that would blow Bishop and Ororo back quite a few feet until Ororo let a roll of thunder shake the ground. Ororo's eyes had gone completely white, signaling the use of her power.

Ororo explained, "Moments before the life of Tommie slipped away forever, Jean linked our minds together, and we witnessed the fiends responsible for the attack. However, we also found one of your cards in her possession. Tell me, Remy, how did that girl acquire your card?" Another roll of thunder shook the ground.

"Stormy, it ain't what you think. Remy didn't kill nobody."

"We'll see about that," Bishop said as he slapped handcuffs around Remy's wrists.

Remy didn't struggle any, letting Bishop yank him unnecessarily and lead him toward his car.

Michael turned to Ororo, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Do you really think he was involved? The people who kidnapped Josh and killed those mutants were ruthless and evil. I'll admit I don't really know him all that well, but he's not that type."

"You are correct, Michael. You do not know him that well. None of us know him that well. Sean, please take Michael and Jubilee back to the school. I shall accompany Bishop. There are questions I have for Remy as well." Emotionless, Ororo turned and walked away, letting the thunder roll once more before it faded into the distance.

Sean walked quickly, catching up to her. "Ororo, what were ye tryin' t' prove back there? That's nae the Storm I know and respect."

"I saw all those people dismembered and mutilated," Ororo turned, letting her sky blue eyes pierce Sean. "Those mutants did not deserve such a fate. No one does. Anyone that would willfully permit something like that to go on deserves nothing from us."

"That's supposed t' be what separates us from them, lass. We dinnae condemn If we become the executors, we become just like them."

"You would suggest that we simply put them in jail, waiting for the next time they break out and go on another killing spree. What if the next victims are the students? Your daughter, Theresa? My godson, Michael? I shall not allow that to happen. Ever. We shall seek answers from Remy about our enemy and take the fight to them. If Remy is our enemy, then we will handle him as such. I do not expect you to agree, Sean. I do ask that you respect my position and allow me to fulfill my responsibility."

Sean snorted disrespectfully. "Sometimes, lass, I feel as if you're forgotten what that exactly is."

Ororo said nothing as Sean turned and walked away. Without turning around, Ororo headed to the car and slid in the passenger seat. It took all she had not to let a raging downpour open up over them.

III.

After dropping off Bishop and Ororo near the airport, Jean took over piloting responsibilities alone, left to wonder why Ororo and Bishop opted to intercept Sean there instead of back at the school. As tempting as it was, Jean resisted the urge to read her mind so she could comprehend what was going through her mind.

The rest of the ride back was silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts. And though Jean should have felt better after the talk with Ororo, that nagging self-doubt and pity kept rearing its ugly head.

_You're a monster._

_ You killed Charles._

_ Scott's missing because of you._

_ No one trusts you._

_ No one wants you here._

She had vowed to take things one step at a time, but now, it felt like she needed to sprint in order to finally leave it all behind.

Only when they were back on school grounds, seated at the far side of the dining room table, did they begin to talk amongst themselves.

"So, ya think the Cajun's guilty?" Logan nonchalantly asked. Though referring to what they had found at the Sea Breeze, Logan knew that Ororo and Bishop weren't going to intercept Sean. They were going for Remy.

Hank shook his head sadly. "That, my friend, I cannot discern. However, I would like to believe that Remy is incapable of participating in such a heinous crime, and as such, this whole situation is a misunderstanding." Hank leaned forward, "I am, however, concerned with Ororo. Her demeanor has been—"

"Shitty," Logan filled in the blank.

"Less then desirable," Hank corrected with a disapproving glare. "I just fear she's acting too hastily, and her judgment is clouded because of recent events." Hank touched the subject lightly, not wanting to put Jean on the spot. He didn't want to make her feel any worse than she was already doing to herself.

"It's got to be hard. She's responsible for this entire school, and Ororo's the type that doesn't let her feelings show. She's probably keeping every doubt, every frustration, every pain inside. But that bottle is only so big," replied Jean. She shifted uneasily in her seat, refusing to listen to her own doubts and guilt over the situation.

Jean wished that she could somehow travel back in time and undo what the Phoenix had done. Somehow, she would grant all those people their lives back and undo the destruction wrought by the malevolent force. But no matter how powerful Jean had become, one of the few things she couldn't do was change the past.

The other thing that she couldn't do is change the crushing weight of what she had done.

Catching the slump in her shoulders and her change in tone, Logan tried to comfort her. "Jeanie, it's—"

"Not your fault," Jean finished for him. "Don't try to convince me, Logan," Jean snapped. She immediately regretted her tone. "I—I'm sorry. It's hard after everything that's happened. I can't help but feel like this is all my fault."

As if on cue, Emma Frost sauntered into the dining room, wearing a criss-crossed X halter top, exposing her toned abs and busty curves, accented by a choker decorated with a jeweled X. Her crisp white pants disappeared seamlessly into her equally white boots, and her sleeveless white trenchcoat trailed behind her.

It was only a few months back that Emma had suddenly joined the teaching staff at the school. Emma never talked about her past, but it was evident she had come from a wealthy background. While her standoffish demeanor and superior attitude turned most of the other staff members off, the teenaged fanboys loved it. But even more so, they panted at Emma's choice of apparel.

Most, if not all of her clothes were white. Pure. Clean. Somehow shielded from every speck of dirt and different colored lint. She carried herself as if she were the epitome of perfection. And in her diamond form, she was. A perfect diamond.

But Emma also prided herself on being one of the most formidable psychics on the planet, falling just beneath the talents of Professor Xavier and Jean Grey. And she never hesitated to remind them.

Logan leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table, to which Emma cast gave a disapproving glance. And Logan grinned in response.

She gave Hank a halfway acknowledging nod, to Logan another mere glance of disdain, and to Jean a withering, belittling stare. The blue eyes matched her personality—icy.

Noticing the negative shift of the mood, Hank smiled and greeted Emma. "Ah, the White Queen. To what do we owe your grand presence?" Hank bowed his head in mock reverence, eliciting a sarcastic smirk from Emma.

"Charming as ever, aren't you, McCoy? Fortunately for you, your furry hide isn't want called me into your little session here." Emma approached their end of the table, letting the light, flowery scent of her perfume stream behind her. Hank and Logan both felt their sense of smell die a little bit.

"Then spit it out. What the hell are ya doin' in here?" Logan readdressed.

"As much as this school is about the X-Men, I presumed that any of us could go anywhere we liked without your permission. You're in the dining room, a community area. I can be here if I want. And though you X-Men swear you live in some superhero bubble, you're just as vulnerable to spectators and eavesdroppers as anyone else in this mansion. But all that aside, I'm actually here for you," Emma cut her eyes at Jean. "I'm getting plain sick of you sulking and moping around here."

"Excuse me?" Jean responded.

Emma continued, "For those of you that are not psychic, let me explain. Those of us that are sensitive to the thought patterns of others are also aware of emotions, and the effect they have on the surrounding area. The lingering psi-imprints of her emotions are driving me up the wall. And I'm sure every other psychic in the house is suffering just as much. If you're going to sulk, why don't you do it in Cerebra or somewhere where the rest of us don't have to suffer too?"

Jean might as well have been slapped in the face. She reeled from Emma's words just as hard as if she had been physically struck. For a moment, Jean was struck speechless, but then she could feel anger settling in.

"I heard the stories, but you're much more of a bitch in person, Emma," Jean shot. She could have said a lot more, and mentally, Jean rattled off enough insults and curses to make a rusty old sailor blush. But fortunately, Jean had her mind heavily shielded, so there was no way Emma would know what she was thinking.

Emma took a few steps toward Jean then struck a pose, putting her hand on her hip and glaring down her nose at Jean. "You X-Men are such drama queens," Emma cast a look at Logan, "Logan walking around like a crushed little boy because his one love cannot ever love him." Then she returned her glare to Jean and continued, "Ms. Popular walking around like Carrie after the prom. And don't get me started on Peter and Katherine. My god, I don't have to watch soap operas for the rest of my life after being around the likes of you," Emma rolled her eyes.

Logan let his chair slam forward, setting all four legs on the floor. "Then why don't you hightail your ass outta here?"

Emma placed her hands on the table and leaned toward Logan. "Because, you need someone like me. To give you people a reality check." She stood and her hunting eyes found their target: Jean Grey. "Fact—Jean, you killed people. You may or may not have killed Scott, only you know that. And you could have destroyed the world. But you chose to let lover-boy here kill you. Or your clone. Whatever, it's a little too convoluted for my tastes. Anyways, somehow, much to my dismay, you're back. You've been given a second chance. It could be classified as third, but again whatever. If all you're going to do is mope around and sulk about what happened then maybe you should have just stayed dead."

Hank gasped in abhorrence. "Emma, you—"

"Don't interrupt, Doctor," Emma abruptly said.

"Let her finish," Jean said. She kept her eyes locked on Emma, afraid that if she looked away, it would mean defeat at her hands. And there was no way Jean could even allow that.

A smirk from Emma almost caused Jean to scream at her. Almost. But she kept it inside and continued to stare Emma down.

"I see what this is. You think that you deserve to be berated and tortured. Please, don't think that you're getting what you deserve. Because you don't deserve anything from any of us. The question you should be asking is what do you owe yourself?"

Jean clenched her fists, debating whether to throw Emma against the wall with merely a thought. She decided against it…for now. Instead, Jean responded, "You don't know anything about me."

"And nothing says I have to. It's simple to recognize a pitiful shell when you see one."

Jean heard a low, bestial growl escape Logan.

_"No. I'll take care of this alone," _Jean broadcasted to Logan and Hank, keeping the shielding on the communication strong enough to block Emma from hearing. Logan conceded much easier than Jean thought he would, settling back into his chair, crossing his arms, and letting his growl turn into a clenched jaw. Hank wasn't thrilled by the showdown, but respected Jean's wishes not to interfere.

"Pitiful shell? You don't know anything about what I went though. You'll never understand," Jean replied.

"Go cry in the corner then get over it. Do you think you're the only person in this mansion that has done something wrong? That has had something so terrible happen that you hope stays buried deep in your mind? Let me show you what I've been through," Emma's eyes began to glow a faint pink, signaling the use of her power.

Before Jean could react, the scenery, to include Logan and Hank, melted into another—the dark insides of a medical facility. No, not a medical facility. It was an insane asylum. Jean could hear the cries of anguish from behind iron-barred doors. The screams came from everywhere and no where all at once.

"Where are we? What are you trying to do here?" Jean reflexively asked, finding herself standing now as opposed to sitting.

Ignoring Jean's questions, Emma said, "Unlike your parents that sought help for you, my parents thought I was crazy and committed me," Emma began. She walked through the vision, unseen by past incarnations of rough guards, an unemotional set of parents, and a crying, struggling fourteen-year-old Emma. "Oh, what they like to do to young crazy girls. But in the end, I showed them," Emma hatefully relayed as Jean saw a glimpse of a bloodied guard, presumably mind-controlled carrying Emma out of her cell and down the hallway. Behind them was a trail of mutilated guards.

Jean witnessed only a glimpse of the vicious way Emma commanded the guard to attack and ultimately kill his cohorts. But the horrors that Emma only glazed over worried Jean, and it made her wonder if she would have willingly enacted revenge on them.

"So you think that because we killed people, somehow we've got some connection?" Jean icily asked.

"Deep down, you're just like me. Willing to use your powers for what you want."

"I didn't want for any of this to happen. I'm nothing like you, Emma," Jean replied with such contempt that Emma second-guessed herself. "I won't use my powers to destroy. That's why I'm an X-Man. And I always will be." Jean's voice was hard, with so much resolve that Emma knew she had succeeded in what she came down to do.

In a flash, the images were gone, and they were back in the presence of Logan and Hank, as if they had never left.

"Good. Now that you've gotten that out of your system, you can start being the Jean Grey these people adore. I have students to tend to, and I'm sure you X-Men have the world to save or something like that. Until next time, Jean. "

Jean stood, her emerald eyes piercing through Emma. "You can pat yourself on the back for helping me in your own twisted way. But if you cross my path again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Not backing down, Emma met Jean's stare. "Well, I gladly await that day. I think this place is long overdue for a cat fight. Maybe we can fight over Scott Summers. He is after all, the hunky, stoic good boy of the group. Perfect for a bad girl like me to corrupt."

Hank's mouth fell open in shock. "Emma! He's—"

"—something. But not dead, isn't that right, Jean? Or were you planning on keeping it a secret?"

Jean clenched her fist, baring bone white knuckles, but she held her tongue.

"There are some things you can hide from me, but not everything," Emma winked then sauntered out of the room. And almost ran into Charles.

"Was that necessary, Emma?"

"Yes. You care too much about her to say what needs to be said. Me? I don't give a damn about her feelings."

"You have overstepped your bounds, Emma. We cannot attack each other like rabid animals. We're here to help."

"You help in your way, and I'll help in mine. Students. Class. Bye, Charles."

Charles listened to the rhythmic tap of Emma's boot as they faded into the west wing of the mansion. He stopped short of the doorway, not meaning to eavesdrop, but wanting to come in at the right time.

Hank shook his head. "There are few that I would pin such descriptors as ruthless, vicious, and cold-hearted. But Emma Frost takes those titles and runs with them," Hank said.

"Her parents must be proud," Logan added. "Jeanie, are you okay?"

"And what did she mean about Scott?" Hank asked.

"I'm fine. And about Scott, it was yesterday, when I first woke up. I felt Scott. I know it was him. But there was something else there, something that's strong enough to block me from reaching him again. I can't tell you how or why, but I know that Scott isn't dead. I didn't want to say anything until I had proof."

"I pray that whatever blocked your telepathy has nothing to do with the situation currently brewing," Hank replied. "I think we should tell Charles as well."

"He already knows," Jean said as she motioned outside of the door.

Taking Jean's invitation, Charles wheeled himself into the room, has expression apologetic and pensive at the same time. "Yes, I am aware of Scott, and you're possibly the only one that can find him now. I know what happened, and I want to apologize, Jean. She didn't mean—"

A headshake from Jean silenced him. "What happened between Emma and I stays between us. On some level, we understand and respect each other. I doubt anyone would be able to understand that outside of us." Jean met his gaze and continued, "I have my doubts. I think I always will. But I can't stay here, confined to the mansion while Scott is out there somewhere. You fought to save me, and now, I have to fight to save him. And Warren."

Charles smiled. "That is good to hear. I already had Cecelia move your things into your room, Jean. This is still your home."

For the first time since returning to the land of the living, Jean felt welcome. She cast a glance to Hank and Logan, who nodded in agreement with Charles. In their own way, they lent her strength. Jean felt as though she had the strength to sprint past her doubts and guilt.

Smiling in return, Jean replied, "I'm glad to be back. Now, let's find Scott."

IV.

Call it woman's intuition, but Kitty absolutely knew something bad had happened between Rogue and Bobby. And the worst of it was that Kitty figured that somehow, she was the cause. A knot formed in her stomach, but she kept her normal façade as to not draw attention to whatever Rogue and Bobby were pretending didn't happen, despite their trip down to see Julian ending up being a complete hour later than they originally intended, both Rogue and Bobby making excuses for the delay.

The both of them seemed normal, but they avoided eye contact as they made their way to the med bay. And it was obvious that they put Sam in between them when they got in the elevator. But Kitty pretended not to notice these things, just as they pretended everything was fine.

Kitty attempted to make small talk on the way down, which was easy with Sam, who seemed to be innocently oblivious to anything that required a slight bit of intuition to notice. But she noted both Bobby's and Rogue's lack of contribution to the conversation. It wasn't until they were in Julian's room that Bobby started acting reasonably normal.

He took the lead, opened the door slowly, and peeked into Julian's room.

Julian Keller was on his feet, already dressed in jeans and sneakers, and mumbled to himself as he snatched a t-shirt off the chair. Suddenly aware of eyes on him, he turned to see the foursome entering his room, with Bobby in the front.

"What the hell are you doing here, Drake?" Julian shot. He struggled to slip on his black t-shirt, a sharp pain in his side restricting his movement. He blew out an exasperated breath then shoved his arm though, which rewarded him with a crippling pain. Bobby was there at his side and caught him, but only for a moment as Julian shook him off. "I'm fine."

"We can see that, Keller," Kitty sarcastically replied. She scanned the room, glad to see the heavy, complicated medical equipment grounded instead of floating weightlessly about the room. The recovery room seemed much less menacing but no less cold.

"Still a ray of sunshine, Ah see," Rogue mentioned.

Julian scowled and said, "If you're here to make sure I'm not causing trouble, I'm not. So you can go play mutant monitor somewhere else."

Kitty replied, "We're checking on you, Keller. Why don't you show a little gratitude?"

"Gratitude for what? All you're doing is trying to come down here and play babysitter. I don't need that."

"You're gonna find yo'self back in that hospital bed if you keep that sass up," Rogue raised her fist.

But Sam came to the rescue, something that seemed to be his job now. He interjected, "Well, Ah sure am glad you're okay, Julian."

Julian caught the genuine sincerity in Sam's voice, which only set him on edge even more. "Whatever."

"What is your problem?" Kitty slammed her hand on the bed and glared at Julian. "We're down here because, despite your bad attitude, we actually care about your well-being, but you're too thick-headed to realize it."

Julian stared back at Kitty, his glare softening only by a fraction of a fraction. "I don't need your pity."

"And we're not giving it," Bobby responded. "Like Kitty said, we wanted to make sure you're okay. That's what friends do for each other after all."

Julian rolled his eyes. "Who said we were friends? I don't have any friends. Period."

"Gee, that's a surprise," Kitty mumbled under her breath.

Bobby sighed, "Whether you like it or not, Julian, we're all in this together. Despite our differences or arguments, we're X-Men. And that bonds us together no matter what."

"Since when did I become a part of your little X-Club? Last I heard, courtesy of Laurie, was that you were cut from the roster."

"Ah swear Laurie Collins…her mutant power is gossipin'," Rogue shook her head in disbelief.

Kitty folded her arms and glared at Julian. "Being an X-Man is a lot deeper than a roster. It's about what's in your heart and how you make a difference in the world. That's what makes us X-Men. I can see right through you, Keller. Despite your tough-guy attitude, you're the same as us. That's why you saved Dr. Grey."

"You act like you know me. You don't know anything about me."

"But we don't have ta. All we need ta know is that you've got our back if we need it. And you need ta know that we've got yours," Sam answered.

For the first time since they had come in the room, Julian made direct eye contact with all of them. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He looked frustrated and flustered, like he wanted to say something but didn't know how. Then he gave up, simply settling into his normal scowl.

"So are we going to get something to eat or what?" Julian looked away as he spoke, seemingly embarrassed.

Bobby was keen enough to pick up on Julian's effort. Too bad he couldn't see it with Rogue. "Yeah, let's head up to the kitchen. I think Sean volunteered Remy to cook up some awesome Cajun food. They should be back soon, so we can start prepping the kitchen."

Bobby found himself casting a glance toward Rogue, but she was already walking out of the room. He shifted his gaze to Kitty, who had seen the exchange. She frowned a little, showing her sympathy for whatever was going on between the two of them. But for Bobby, that look was more than just a passing glance. He felt his heart jump a little at the direct eye contact with Kitty. Blushing, he turned away and offered a hand to Julian before falling in behind everyone.

They made their way upstairs without too much conversation until they entered the living room. Julian, in normal fashion, said, "My first day of recovery, and I'm being bombarded by annoying people."

Confused, Bobby, Rogue, Kitty, and Sam scanned the room and spotted who Julian was referring to.

The Stepford Cuckoos, a nicknamed used quite often by the other students, strolled into the room. Wearing white Polo shirts with flipped collars, plaid skirts held up by thin suspenders, knee-high matching socks, and brown loafers, they looked like they had just stepped out of a teenage-themed movie or show.

It was gossip that somehow, they were related to Emma Frost, sharing the same model-esque features and demeanor. But no one could ever substantiate the rumors, plus, it really didn't make sense, considering most of the teachers were in their early twenties, only at the most ten years older than the students, with the exception of a few.

Celeste replied, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Julian."

Sophie continued, "But say something like that again—"

"—and we'll send you back to the land of the dead." Mindee finished.

"Permanently," the trio simultaneously said. Without losing stride, they continued on into the kitchen.

"Not five minutes out of the med bay, and people already want to see you right back in it," Kitty mused.

"Shut up, Pryde. Besides, it not my fault. Those girls are kind of—"

"Weird?" Bobby completed the sentence.

"Odd?" Rogue added.

"Eerie?" Kitty continued.

The Stepford Cuckoos strolled back the same path they had come in. "Bizarre. Peculiar. Mysterious. Uncanny. Supernal. Strange," they rattled off. Then they all replied, "Flattery will get you nowhere with us."

They disappeared in the direction of the classrooms, leaving the foursome to wonder what their deal was.

Sam finally spoke up, "Well, Ah think they're an interesting bunch. They're the first triplets Ah've ever met."

Kitty sighed, rubbing the center of her forehead. "Sam, I swear, you have got to be the nicest person that I've ever met. But you've got to be a little more suspicious of strange people."

Bobby laughed out loud. "Come on. Let's start getting stuff prepped." Still joking, they began setting up for an elaborate dinner. But there was no way for them know that they wouldn't get the chance to have that Cajun dinner. And that by the end of the day, two more X-Men would be kidnapped.

Notes:

Steely Phil Gordon: Glad you liked the last chapter. And here's the next one for your viewing pleasure.

BlackIceAngel: LOL! Okay, okay. Yeah, I'll admit. My timing as far as updating has left something to be desired. I'm getting better at it though. And that damn writer's block is dying a little bit every day.

Kitty2228: I'm glad that the characters are balanced. That's the trouble with X-Men. There are so many characters. But hopefully, you're getting to see all of the fan favorites and a few lesser known characters play an important role in the story.

*Marie*: I know I keep saying it, but they are going to run into Scott VERY soon. I haven't ever really been a fan of Rogue and Bobby (I'm waiting for the hate mail to start flowing in now that I've said that), but their breakup in the story was more of a natural progression. From what I remember, the kiss was never really addressed in the movie or book. But we'll see whether they end up together in the end. And don't write off the wild card known as Remy. There could be a hint of romance for him and Rogue. We'll see though.

HiddenCries77: I'm glad you've taken a liking to the story. I wanted to make a strong Rogue without all the back story of the comic Rogue, so I worked a little creative authoring. I agree, Rogue is a stronger character than that, and I hope that I can convey that as the story progresses.


	15. Chapter 15

I.

From the moment Jeanne-Marie Beaubier left the airport, she felt that she was being watched. And followed.

When Flight 7804 landed, there was some emergency situation that warranted the craft to wait for hours on the flight line, awaiting the "all clear" call from whoever was supposed to give it. Already antsy, Jeanne-Marie tried to concentrate on everything but being stuck on the plane. Slowly, a feeling of restlessness took over and during the next hour, it took all she had to stay composed in the increasingly smaller cabin.

They finally were able to disembark, and as she hurriedly made her way through the gaggle, she overheard some other stranded passengers mentioning a situation involving mutants, which had every flight delayed by at least five hours.

Jeanne-Marie felt her heart sink a little. She was ready to be back in her own house. TO use her own bathroom. To sleep in her bed. She hoped that through some means, her connecting flight was somehow special and got to leave within the hour, but after seeing it was delayed seven hours, Jeanne-Marie knew that she couldn't just sit in the airport waiting.

Quickly, she flagged down a taxi and directed the driver to take her into the downtown area of the city, only about twenty minutes away. The cab driver, an older gentlemen who had a Southern accent, made friendly conversation as he drove, which helped Jeanne-Marie relax a little. The people on the plane seemed stuffy and dreary, void of any personality.

She was disappointed in the weather though. The grey-tinted sky seemed menacing, a harbinger of terrible thunderstorms and other adverse weather conditions. As she gazed out of the window, she thought she saw a winged figure, soaring through the air. But it was so far away, and Jeanne-Marie only caught a faint glimpse, she wasn't exactly sure of what she saw. When she looked again, it was gone. But she held onto the memory, sure that her seeing it wasn't a coincidence. After a few minutes of chatting, she let her eyes wander back outside and muffled a gasp as the winged figure, flying much closer than before, made eye contact with her.

In those dark eyes, she saw something evil. She broke the gaze quickly, sitting back in her seat and casting her eyes straight ahead. The cab driver continued to chatter on about some local gossip, and Jeanne-Marie simply offered a polite nod and sound of agreement as her mind was still on the thing outside the window.

It looked human, but the large metal wings and azure complexion, along with the evil eyes, told her it was something more than human. More than mutant even.

Unwittingly, Jeanne-Marie cast a glance outside, and found that as the sky had cleared a little. And the flying thing was gone, no where to be found. She couldn't understand why she had seen it in the first place or whether she was supposed to discern something from its sudden presence, but either way, Jeanne-Marie figured it was too late. She had missed her chance.

Paying the taxi driver upon arrival at a busy intersection and getting the names and directions of the touristy spots, Jeanne-Marie stepped out and took a breath of relief, glad to be in the open air and out of enclosed spaces. She wasn't claustrophobic, but she always felt more comfortable outside, among people.

Jeanne-Marie suddenly felt eyes piercing her back.

She spun around, hoping it was some cute guy, taken by her looks, which happened quite often. Her dark hair and eyes, fair complexion, and toned figure usually got her complements from men and women alike. But when she looked, there was no one that she could see who had 

taken an interest in her. Still, she felt someone looking at her from somewhere.

The image of the flying demon suddenly popped into her mind. Somehow and for some reason, it was following her.

As she began to make her way down the sidewalk, Jeanne-Marie tried to catch a glimpse of her pursuer, but it seemed that she couldn't pinpoint its exact location. One minute, it would seem to be in front of her, and the next, it would be behind her. But instead of stopping, she kept moving forward, praying that the demon would simply lose interest and disappear.

Her small excursion downtown had suddenly turned into a frightening game of cat and mouse. And Jeanne-Marie wasn't quite sure how to win.

The thought of going to the police came and went. At first, she was all for it, but then, rationally, she knew that the police would not believe that she was being stalked by some winged demon that she couldn't see but knew was tracing her every step. Jeanne-Marie understood it sounded crazy, but on the other hand, it was crazier for her to not recognize the immediate danger she was in.

Instead of ducking through the crowd, Jeanne-Marie made a sharp, almost switchback turn into a coffee shop, getting a slight sense of relief only after the tinkling bells signified the door closing, effectively cutting off her pursuer. Jeanne-Marie breathed deeply and then scanned the shop.

A small, one room establishment, the locally owned coffee shop was cozy and swank, giving off a relaxing and peaceful vibe. Jeanne-Marie already felt her tension easing, as the feeling of being watched dissipated.

She passed by a young couple discussing something intimate over two steaming drinks. A male college student glued to a laptop sat two tables away, and there was an older woman in the back, enjoying her drink. Jeanne-Marie slipped into a table near the back, away from the window.

Jeanne-Marie glanced around the coffee shop, the remnants of her panic melting into concern. She felt sure that her pursuer wouldn't be so bold as to follow her into a well-lit establishment, populated by normal people. She began to feel as though she had gotten to home base, and the person playing _it_ couldn't chase her any longer, warded off by the universal rules of tag.

Ordering a Chai tea, Jeanne-Marie relaxed a little more, and already began to dismiss the situation as unnecessary paranoia and a hallucination brought on by fatigue. But it had been happening a lot lately. At first, it seemed that she was just having an off day. But a day turned into weeks. And weeks turned into months. Soon, tomorrow was something she didn't look forward to, and Jeanne-Marie was sinking into depression.

Having visited her brother, Jean-Paul, helped somewhat though. Though and no-nonsensical in his demeanor, he always had a soft spot for his twin sister, though they had only met about three years before. Separated at birth, they were reunited through coincidence, but came to find that they had many things in common. To include being a mutant.

She stayed with him for a week, enjoying her brother's company and the change of scenery. When it was time for her to leave, Jeanne-Marie felt refreshed and ready to conquer the world. And now, that bravado was being put to the test.

A boyishly handsome waiter brought her drink. Giving him a three dollar tip, Jeanne-Marie smiled pleasantly, thanked him, and settled back to relax. She thumbed through the latest edition of Vogue, admiring the various models, to include Monet St. Croix and Alison Blaire, while only briefly scanning the articles and advertisements.

She was so relaxed and absorbed in the magazine that when the first scream rang out, Jeanne-Marie thought she had imagined it. A blood-curdling shriek, it was laced with surprise and pain. She dropped the magazine and looked for the source. Upon finding it, she barely caught her own scream.

A winged demon stood in the doorway, its body and face silhouetted against the door and large window at the front of the coffee shop. Large wings protruded from its back, extended out fully.

"No," she weakly whispered. The winged demon moved its wing slightly, and the couple screamed only for a moment before falling, their bodies riddled with metal feathers.

Jeanne-Marie knew that this thing was what had been following her. And now it had made its move. Two people were already dead. What did it want with her? What brought it here? How would such a monster even exist? Though she almost became dizzy from the questions racing through her mind, Jeanne-Marie felt fear trumping any other feeling she had right now.

The college student stood, just as visibly shaken as Jeanne-Marie. He leaned back against his chair to keep from falling over and avoided making any sudden movements. Jeanne-Marie then thought of the old woman in the back and glanced toward her. She was clutching her chest dramatically, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

If nothing else, Jeanne-Marie not only had to save herself, but also these other two people that were victims of circumstance. Because of her.

"Stand back!" Jeanne-Marie commanded as she balled her hands into fists. "I won't let you hurt these people!" With a scream of determination, she let concussive blasts of white light flow from her hands. Her eyes glowed white hot as the light grew more intense, giving off its own heat.

Almost instinctively, as a means to protect Warren, his metallic wings folded around him, deflecting the light with no hint of damage. In retaliation, his right wing flexed and snapped back into place, letting more sharp feathers shoot towards them.

Accelerating the molecules in her body, Jeanne-Marie seemed to move out of sync with normal time as her image suddenly became a blur. In reality, she was dodging the feathers at a blinding speed, accelerating the molecules in her body to nearly the speed of light.

The feathers stopped and she paused, a dreadful feeling overtaking her. Jeanne-Marie chanced a glance back to the old woman and college student. Both were dead, torn to shreds by the feathers.

"No—" she weakly cried. The people she resolved to protect were dead. She stood alone against the demon, and her courage grew weaker by the moment.

She didn't hear anything from behind the register or anywhere else in the restaurant, which meant the waiter and cashier both had been struck down and killed by the demon at some point during all the chaos. Jeanne-Marie ran through a multitude of reasons why she could have been targeted. And why her pursuer was willing to kill anyone around her. But she came up empty-handed every time, which scared her more.

"Who—who are you?" Jeanne-Marie stammered.

"I am Death."

The statement was so hard and cold, Jeanne-Marie felt a hard chill rack her body. She knew that this intruder—Death—was dangerous. And her leaving the coffee shop alive suddenly seemed like wishful thinking.

"What do you want with me?" Jeanne-Marie figured that since he could talk, there was 

some part of him that was human. And if she could keep that part talking, maybe she would have an opening to escape into the street.

"Only the strong survive. You have been deemed weak by Lord Apocalypse. Therefore, I am here to execute our lord's judgment."

Her head spun as she tried to wrap her hands around the demon's explanation. Obviously, she was nothing more than a mere pawn in a larger game. But she didn't know who the other players were or who her other enemies were. As of now, it was only her and the demon.

Warren continued, "You're weak. And pathetic. You don't deserve the power that has been bestowed upon you."

"Wait, you don't—" but her words were quickly cut off.

With the grace of a dancer, Warren spun much too fast for Jeanne-Marie to react. There was a flash as Warren's wings passed by her. Then everything was still.

For a split second, Jeanne-Marie wasn't sure that anything had happened. But a white hot pain suddenly took her breath and the warm flow of blood told her that something was horribly wrong. She brought her hand to her throat as the blood began to build in her throat. Then she felt the blood begin to flow from her midsection.

There was a moment of disbelief. In the next moment and forever after that, there was nothing.

Warren watched as blood gushed from her wounds and her body sank slowly to the ground, convulsing. The thick, crimson liquid flowed feely as her body finally came to rest.

Glancing around the coffee shop, Warren's lips curled into a malevolent smile as he basked in the surrounding death. His pleasure was interrupted by an incoming message.

"I have a task for you," Sinister's raspy voice came through the earpiece Warren had. He and the other three Horsemen received earpieces that acted as two-way radios, keeping them in touch with each other and Sinister.

"What?" Warren sourly asked.

"The mutant, Gambit, has been arrested. He could tell everything. I want you to take care of him."

Warren made a sound of disapproval and defiance. "We're not your personal assassins, Sinister."

"Think of it as insurance that Lord Apocalypse's plan comes to fruition."

"He doesn't need you for that."

"Oh, really? You were left to my disposal, correct?"

Warren said nothing in reply.

"That's what I thought. Let me know when the job's complete."

The transmission ended, and Warren's pleasurable disposition was ruined. There was something about Sinister that he didn't trust or like.

Casting a look of disgust at the remains, Warren turned and left the coffee shop and took to the air with haste, unmindful of screams and stares.

II.

Everything was going according to plan.

Sinister had spent years working underground, experimenting and pushing towards his ultimate goal of creating the perfect mutant. And now, he was closer than ever. The next stop 

was just right around the corner, and then Apocalypse would fall. Sinister chuckled as he imagined Apocalypse's surprise that his top agent was actually plotting against him.

"Mr. Sinister," Scott entered the room, still dressed in the uniform Sinister had furnished for him. "You wanted to see me?"

He studied Scott for a moment. Scott's frigid demeanor proved that Sinister's brainwashing had worked flawlessly. Scott remembered nothing of his past, which made him a blank slate, able to be molded however Sinister wanted. And Sinister planned on taking advantage of it.

After following Scott for most of his life and analyzing his DNA, Sinister found that Scott, as well as Alex, had unlimited potential for energy manipulation. However, physically, they would never reach the point where they would, which kept them both from being classified as Omega-level mutants. With the right manipulation of the right strands of DNA, Sinister figured he could create a person strong enough to harness and control the boundless energies at their disposal.

Then there were the Omega-level mutants. Jean Grey was of particular interest to him. Her abilities had somehow been altered to manipulate energy as well as her vast mental abilities. Sinister knew that if he could somehow combine both of their genes, he could create a god.

And it would obey only him.

Of course, Apocalypse was unaware of his plans. In fact, Sinister had conned Apocalypse into believing he was getting the Omega-level mutants to create a powerful, youthful body for him. Stupid fool.

"Yes," Sinister answered. "When will we have possession of the other two Omega-level mutants?"

"The Marauders will infiltrate the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning in T-minus twelve minutes." Though Scott kept his expression neutral, he felt something click. There was something strangely familiar about this Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Or maybe it was just the name Xavier.

All day, Scott had been chasing some fleeting memory just on the edge of his sub-conscious. Something felt utterly wrong with his current existence as the top agent for Sinister, but he didn't know anything else. When he tried to think back even a week ago, his head began to throb and his mind became murky.

Scott knew that there was something that he wasn't supposed to remember, but he didn't know what it was or what it had to do with. For now, Scott resigned himself to play along with Sinister to see if his memories would return or if he was simply imagining some other life.

"Excellent work, Scott. Make haste, but ensure not to fatally harm the mutants there. I have other plans for them," a malevolent grin spread across his face, and Scott simply nodded in compliance.

Scott obediently replied, "Understood." Then, he was gone.

Sinister knew the Scott and his team would be successful in retrieving Bobby Drake and Jean Grey. There was no question about it. Scott's loyalty and leadership ability left no room for failure. Sinister wouldn't accept it. And neither would Scott.

Sinister glanced at a large glass tube, where Josh Foley lay unconscious.

Content that his plan was coming to fruition, he returned to the computer screen, and continued analyzing the DNA combination for the perfect mutant.

In the meantime, Scott took a direct route to the meeting room, glad that Alex had already gathered the Marauders there. The bunch of ruffians looked dangerous. "We're executing the 

plan to retrieve the final two targets," Scott declared. "Sabretooth, Blockbuster, Vertigo, Gorgeous George, Ruckus, Toad. You're with Alex. I detected that a large number of mutants are around Bobby Drake. Jean Grey has a minimal amount of people around her. She will be easier to approach alone."

"I can get the pipsqueak myself," Sabretooth said. "I don't need orders from a damn Summers."

Scott smirked. "Given your track record, you need all the help you can get, Creed. If you go against Alex's commands, I'll deal with you personally."

Sabretooth snorted in reply. "Looks like the Golden Boy X-Man has finally grown a pair—" a right hook, infused with a high concentration of plasma energy, cut Sabretooth off. "What the hell, Summers?"

"You talk too much," Alex spat. He looked to see if Scott had any reaction to Sabretooth's comments, but if they had registered, he didn't show any signs of remembering his status as an X-Man.

Scott addressed everyone. "Failure is not an option. If you are overtaken, utilize your teleportation device to return here. No one here is captured. No one here dies. Understood?"

After receiving nods and sounds of agreement, Scott turned to Alex. "Are you good?"

Alex nodded. Secretly, he didn't like the fact that Scott was going after Jean Grey alone. That was dangerous in itself. If his memories somehow returned, Alex was sure to lose his brother once again. If he argued to vehemently, there was a great chance that Scott would figure something out, so he decided to keep his opinion to himself. For now.

"We'll meet you back here in thirty, Scott." Going against his better judgment, Alex decided to ask, "Scott, are you sure about going after Jean Grey by yourself?"

Scott replied coldly, "You have your orders."

He wouldn't tell Alex, but there was something deep inside of him that stirred in anticipation of actually seeing Jean Grey. And as he teleported to the Xavier School for Higher Learning, his heart actually skipped a beat.

III.

"I never would have volunteered to do this portrait if I had known I would have to sit motionless for two hours," Emma bitterly said. She moved a muscle in her back ever so slightly to take some of the tension off from sitting erect with no support. She kept her face neutral, neither a smile nor a frown but a cross between the two, making her look like a spoiled aristocrat's daughter.

Earlier, when Peter Rasputin requested that she pose for a portrait, Emma was flattered but didn't let it show. She pretended to ponder the idea before acquiescing to his request only a few minutes later. Now, having neglected some tasks that she needed to accomplish, Emma hoped that the portrait came out perfect. At least that would make it worth her while.

At least she had garnered some compliments from Peter about her defined cheekbones, smooth complexion, sapphire eyes, and feminine yet firm jaw line. It wasn't often that she got compliments from the other staff members. But she always overheard the students talking, whether she was trying to listen or not. Most of the boys fantasized completely naughty thoughts, while the girls marveled at her model-esque features.

Emma moved ever so slightly once more, getting a stern look from Peter in return.

"I would ask how much longer, but I'm afraid I won't like the answer."

Peter smiled, poking his head around the canvas. "Well, I appreciate your time. You could have easily done some of your psychic stuff and looked at the portrait yourself, no?" His Russian accent was evident, but not so thick as to be misunderstood.

"Trust me. The thought crossed my mind several times. I wanted to make sure you're not back there drawing stick figures of me."

That got a good laugh out of Peter. "I'm nearing the end now."

Emma cleared her throat and postured herself, feeling a new surge of energy course through her at the sound of almost being done. She didn't want to do anything to mess it up now.

Deciding that the silence was a bit uncomfortable, Emma reluctantly asked, "So how are you and Katherine?"

Peter sucked in his breath as if he had been hit in the gut. "I was not aware that everyone knew about Katya and me."

Emma smiled, detecting the instant fluster of thoughts that poured from Peter's head. She respected him enough not to pry. At least, not too much. Emma replied, "She isn't exactly shy about expressing her feelings to anyone within earshot. And even those of us not within earshot."

Again, Peter's mouth fell into an O of surprise. "You have…read her mind?!"

She loved playing this game. "Relax," Emma soothed. "Not intentionally. Keeping up psionic shields to block out all of the random thoughts floating around this place is hard work. And sometimes, when someone's practically shouting their thoughts, it's hard not to hear."

Peter disappeared behind the canvas again, the sounds of soft brush strokes periodically interrupting the silence. "So," Peter began, still hidden behind the canvas, "what does she say?"

"Weren't you just on a high-horse two seconds ago about mind reading? Now you want me to tell you what she was thinking? Men."

"If women weren't so hard to understand, we wouldn't have to resort to mind-readers, would we?"

"Touché. I think you've been hanging around Katherine too long. That annoyingly witty streak of hers is rubbing off on you." Emma paused. "As much as I loathe being caught in the petty affairs of you X-Men, I will say this—she hasn't written you out of her life completely. Just ripped out a few pages. Of course, we know how dramatic she can be."

"Da!" Peter replied a bit too energetically, which caused Emma to chuckle. He moved back and forth a few times behind the canvas then stood. "There. It is done." Peter turned the canvas around and held it out for Emma to see.

"There are few things in this life that impress me. And even fewer that make me smile. But you, Peter Rasputin, have managed to elicit both responses in one stroke."

Peter's face flushed slightly. "I'm glad it is to your liking."

Emma was about to reply when she felt a foreign presence in the mansion. Several unfamiliar minds clouded with thoughts of destruction suddenly came into existence. "Peter, come with me downstairs. I think there's trouble."

On the way down, Emma thought about sending out a psi-alert to all of the mansion, but she figured that they would investigate first. It could be a mistake. But once she entered the living area, and saw a group of ruffians eying them, she knew that they were in trouble.

_"There are intruders in the school. Head to the Danger Room at once!"_ Emma said without batting an eyelash. She knew that her projected voice was strong, and probably hurt some of the psi-sensitive students, but it properly relayed the urgency and potential danger they 

were now faced with.

IV.

Emma's voice suddenly echoed from everywhere at once, coming from somewhere inside of each of their heads. _"There are intruders in the school. Students, head to the Danger Room at once!"_

The Danger Room was supposed to serve the students like the sprawling closet in _Panic Room_, a safe haven of reprieve against any sort of threat to the school.

Bobby didn't have to say anything to the others. They knew that their place wasn't hiding in the Danger Room with the younger students. Their place was at the front lines, confronting whoever dared to infiltrate their school. Bobby led the way as the others left the kitchen, dashed through the dining room, and stopped abruptly in the living area.

There, they saw Ms. Frost, an instructor, and Peter confronting a group of mutants they had never seen before.

Emma frowned, eying the intruders with disdain. "This is a school. You are not welcome here. I would suggest that you leave now," Emma said as she and Peter neared the intruders.

"Actually, it's not a suggestion. We're telling you to get the hell out of here!" Julian shouted. He was flanked by Bobby and Sam on the right, Kitty and Rogue on the left. A rippling green aura surrounded him, the physical manifestation of his vast telekinetic powers.

"We've come for the Omega-level mutant, Robert Drake. Hand him over, and no one will get hurt," Alex directed, his commanding voice leaving room for nothing but complete, unquestioned compliance.

"Popsicle?" Julian repeated, stunned.

"Me?" Bobby whispered. He couldn't believe that someone had broken into the school and threatened the well-being of everyone just for him. There wasn't anything special about him. Nothing extraordinary about his powers either. Yet, suddenly he was this _Omega-level mutant_, being pursued by strange mutants with a hidden agenda. Suddenly, Warren's disappearance didn't seem so random after all.

Tension charged the air as the students and staff of Xavier's faced the unknown intruders, waiting for them to make the next move. Ideally, they would somehow realize the error of their ways, pack up, and haul their asses out of there. But this was the real world.

In the real world, this unexpected intrusion could only end in a physical confrontation.

And injury.

And death.

"You. Come here now, or there will be hell to pay," Alex demanded.

"Maybe you should your checkbooks ready!" Julian said as he lashed out at Alex, hitting him in the middle of the chest with the impact of a car. Gorgeous George responded immediately, catching Alex before he hit the wall, while Blockbuster struck the ground with both of his fists.

The ground lurched underneath them, throwing Bobby, Kitty, and Sam to the ground. Rogue and Julian instinctively took to the air, launching themselves at the intruders, ignoring the warnings from Emma.

Alex began barking orders, knowing that this directions would be the key to victory. "Vertigo, take care of them. The rest of you, take these meddlers out and retrieve the target!"

"My pleasure," Vertigo responded. Holding her hands out to her sides, she concentrated on the students and faculty, and almost immediately everything went topsy-turvy. Normally solid shapes and images distorted into amorphous shapes and moved like an amoeba in water. The world spun out of control, and suddenly, they found themselves vomiting, and some even fell to their knees, only a hair away from blacking out.

Obviously having disobeyed the warning from Emma, the Stepford Cuckoos, Celeste in the front flanked by Mindee and Phoebe, strode into the room, directly towards Vertigo. Walking in step, the triplets smiled sadistically as they approached Vertigo, obviously impervious to her psionic vertigo waves.

Sensing Vertigo's confusion, Celeste stated, "Your powers are psionic in nature."

Mindee continued, "And ours are too."

Phoebe then added, "One of us may be no match for you—"

All three finished simultaneously, "—but against the three of us, you don't stand a chance."

At first, Vertigo dismissed the girls' banter as big X-Men talk, and turned to focus the full extent of her power on them. But she quickly came to realize that they shouldn't be underestimated.

For the first time in her life, Vertigo felt the effects of her own power reflected back at her. It began as a loss of balance, as if the entire world had suddenly been jolted right under her feet. Then a wave of nausea gripped her as the world began to spin. Vertigo wanted to vomit, but everything spun so fast that she could barely tell if she was standing or falling. With a moan of defeat, Vertigo crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

Almost immediately the affected X-Men began to recover, and some even took action.

"Vertigo is down. You will be next," the triplets simultaneously announced as they moved in time with each other, turning to face Alex. They gave him a mischievous smile.

"We'll see about that," Alex shifted his weight, feeling, feeling a deep inferno building up through his body. With a scream, Alex thrust his fists forward, and channeled the amassing plasmatic energy rip towards the girls.

"Mr. Summers, remember that we work as a team" all three responded.

Alex watched in surprise as his plasma burst hit a reflective green shield and dissipated around the girls, leaving them unharmed.

Alex presumed that if they were psychics, it was possible that they also had telekinesis, which would have reflected the blast. But that telekinesis would have to be strong in order to repel energy. And these girls didn't seem to have that kind of focus. No, there was someone else.

As Julian lowered himself in front of the Stepford Cuckoos, a green aura of telekinetic energy rippled around him and the girls. Without a word, Julian took command of a couch and flung it at Alex. He ducked underneath the heavy piece of furniture, but was caught by a bookcase, which rammed into him then continued to drive him back towards the wall until he was pinned between the two.

With a scream of frustration, Alex let his power pulsate from his entire body then let it rip, destroying the bookcase and the wall. "That was your last mistake, kids."

_"It's you that has made the mistake,"_ a telepathic voice different from the Stepford Cuckoos said to Alex. He turned to see a female made completely of diamond standing with her hand on her hip. She smiled as she suddenly dove forward and with a hard right hook, took Alex down. _"No one messes with my students."_

Stepping over Alex, Emma addressed Julian and the Stepford Cuckoos. "Since when did you stop obeying the instructions of your teachers?"

"Whatever. You can give me detention later. We've got some bad guys to take care of." With that, he lifted himself into the air and launched himself across the room, right into another situation.

"Do you girls plan on joining him in detention?"

"Of course," they simultaneously said.

"Fine. Then make sure all of the other students get into the Danger Room. Protect them at all costs, understood?"

"Yes," they replied together. The three girls turned and quickly made their way upstairs to ensure the rooms were cleared out, leaving Emma to worry about the rest. Emma surveyed the living room area and realized that it was complete pandemonium as several small battles were taking place, each one melting and mixing with another.

Emma tried to contact Charles again, but he was either unconscious or inside of Cerebro. Either way, she couldn't be sure of his safety.

_"Jean, we're under attack. I can't locate Charles."_

Jean didn't have to ask any questions as Emma replayed the entire scene in fractions of a second. _"We'll find him, and approach the battle from the outside in."_

Satisfied, Emma turned her attention back to the battle and found herself face-to-face with Blockbuster. He placed a sound punch right on her jaw, blasting her completely through the wall. Though in diamond form, the impact was too much and she lost consciousness.

Rogue wished she could have helped Ms. Frost, but she was knee-deep in trouble. Literally. Her opponent was made of something that was sticky and wet, almost like tar. And though she was strong, her hits were simply absorbed by his body as he snaked around her.

"Looks like you're trapped," Georgeous George taunted as he began to crush her midsection.

Drawing a breath became harder and harder until she realized she couldn't breathe.

"I'll tear you apart!" Julian screamed as he simply imagined ripping George to pieces. In a matter of seconds, George's tar-like body was splattered against the walls and floor, and Rogue crumpled to the ground, desperately gasping for air.

Julian offered his hand to Rogue. "Hey, get up. We don't have time for—"

He was cut off by a sticky, wet slap across his face. He brought his hand up and felt the substance stuck to his cheek. Then there was another on his leg. Panicked, Julian tried to brush it off, but he felt another slimy chunk slap against his neck. Julian spun to see the rest of the pieces flying towards him, affixing themselves to his body then in a matter of a few moments he was covered, drowning inside of George's recreated body.

"Heh heh. Not saying too much now, are you?"

Letting of a scream of determination, Rogue launched herself into the air and punched right through George's body, grabbing Julian in the process. They ripped out of the other side of his with a sickening sound as Bobby approached George.

His arms transformed from normal flesh and blood to a crystalline ice appendage, fully flexible. Aiming at George, Bobby focused his energy into a concentrated ice blast, which immediately dropped the temperature of the room several degrees. But for anything directly in his path, his attack froze it instantly. And in this case, George found himself chilled then numb, frozen in his spot, completely encased in ice.

From behind, Peter, in his steel armor form, hauled back and slugged the ice structure, 

shattering it into thousands of deep-frozen ice fragments.

Rogue, with Julian in tow, landed near the hallway, still catching her breath. "Are you okay?" she managed to croak out.

"I just let my guard down. Trust me, it won't happen again," Julian replied. He tried to hide it, but he was trying to catch his breath too. Looking up, he noticed Sage suddenly on the scene, taking on Sabretooth, a maniacal fiend they had studied in one of their classes.

Sage stood still an unemotional, as Sabretooth tried to state her down. He licked his lips lewdly then the thought of murder suddenly lit his eyes.

"I'm going to enjoy tearing you limb from limb in front of all the little kiddies," Sabretooth nodded to Rogue and Julian, who looked ready to jump in.

Sage shook her head at the two, telling them to stay put, then focused back on Sabretooth. "The speed of your healing factor depends on the severity of your injury in addition to how many injuries you're trying to heal at once. However, it begins restoration of the damaged area almost immediately. Using my bare hands, I must inflict a massive amount of mortal injury within two point eight three minutes for your body to shut down to have to repair itself."

Sabretooth laughed heartily. "I'll tear you apart in one."

Amused, Sage replied, "I've fought Wolverine to a stand-still. Your capabilities are nowhere near his."

Sabretooth bared his fangs, and let out an earth-trembling growl. "You dare compare me to that runt?! Let's see how much you have to say when I rip out your throat," Sabretooth lunged at Sage just as he finished his reply. His right claws swiped the air as Sage dodged the attack.

"For your benefit, I'll give you my analysis of this fight. That way, maybe you'll learn something for once in your miserable life." Sage began, "Your swipe was sloppy and haphazard, which is why I was able to dodge so easily. A good potion of your weight has shifted to the left, and now, you're restoring your balance, which is why I can do this," Sage finished with a sweeping-motion kick to Sabretooth's right knee, toppling him.

Sabretooth fell, but rolled backwards off one hand then lunged at Sage. She turned away from him, but not quickly enough to avoid being caught in his clutches. "Not too much to say now, meat?" Sabretooth taunted as he flung her backwards, towards the wall, with no effort.

"Again, sloppy. You were too far from the wall to effectively, and brutally, throw me through the wall." Sage flipped in mid-air, bounced off the wall, and retaliated with a beautiful aerial spin kick to Sabretooth's jaw. His head snapped back and Sage knew that she had dislocated his jaw. "My acrobatic prowess allowed me to use the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to your jaw. Point seven nine minutes down."

Sabretooth mumbled a distorted insult, but Sage ignored it, already planning her next move and anticipating his. As she thought, Sabretooth threw a right straight punch at her.

"I can strike your Golgi tendon on the back of your elbow," Sage moved fluidly, blocking the swipe, grasping his wrist, and then striking upwards into his elbow, "then I can subsequently break your arm with no effort." Sage finished the maneuver with an outward twist then pulled his arm towards her while striking the rest of his arm with her forearm.

There was a sickening pop, and Sabretooth howled in pain. Sage swung her left leg high, gracefully striking him in the face. Sabretooth stumbled, and Sage took advantage of his momentary lapse in balance. With a low sweep, he fell to the ground heavily.

Sage flipped upon her hands, taking hold of Sabretooth's ankle, then launched herself towards his head. She planted her heels in his eyes, while at the same time, ligaments then 

muscle tore as she yanked his foot above his head. Sage dropped a knee into Sabretooth's face, breaking his nose.

Gracefully, she flipped in the air and came down on Sabretooth's throat, crushing his windpipe. As he gurgled from the fluid filling his throat, Sage began to walk away.

"You will drown in your own blood, cutting off oxygen to your brain. Though your body will begin to heal, you will blackout for approximately eleven point five nine minutes, plenty of time for us to thwart your plan." Sage glanced at her watch as Sabretooth lost consciousness. "Two point seven one minutes. My timing was off."

Kitty phased through Alex from behind, solidifying herself at the last second to deliver a kick to his jaw. Kitty landed next to Sage. "You're a robot! That would explain your cold demeanor and snooty attitude. You can't feel emotion and all that other stuff. That is so science fiction," Kitty beamed, impressed with her own deduction.

Sage rolled her eyes and continued on. "You children really should find something to stimulate your minds. Your brains have obviously turned to mush sitting around playing X-Man."

Julian and Rogue heard a low moan come from a collapsed part of the wall. Julian responded by lifting all of the fragments, while Rogue pulled Emma out from under it.

_"Sage, Katherine, look out!" _Emma telepathically warned.

A plasma shot tore through the air right towards them. Kitty immediately went intangible, while Sage flipped forward, springing off of one hand, the flash barely missing her. Peter stepped in front of them, the plasma bursts simply reflecting off his armor.

_"There's another intruder, separate from these buffoons," _Emma telepathically informed Sage_. "I can only presume that they have an alternate target. That wretched Jean Grey is in danger."_

Sage telepathically replied, _"Jean will be gone by the time I get there, Emma. We need Charles."_

_"I can't find him. I've told Jean the situation, but if the intruders are after the Omega mutants, she's in trouble too."_

_"If he's not unconscious, the only place her could be is Cerebro. At least he's safe there. That's one less target we have to worry about."_

_"Get him. Now."_

Sage didn't care for Emma's tone, but she noted that the situation here was being handled effectively enough. "Fine. Just don't blame me when Snowboy gets taken."

"It's Iceman," Bobby corrected as he erected an ice wall to shield him from a wild plasma burst from Alex.

"Whatever." Sage dashed forward and disappeared into the hallway.

"Sam's in trouble!" Julian said as he immediately launched himself straight toward Blockbuster, who had somehow gotten close enough to Sam to have grabbed him. Sam tried to blast out of his grip, but the fiend held him fast, dangling him in the air like a rag doll.

"Let him go!" Julian screamed as a telekinetic blast rocked Blockbuster. The villain sprawled from the attack, subsequently dropping Sam as he flailed through the air. Julian rammed Blockbuster into a wall several times before succeeding in throwing him through it. But as quickly as Julian had dispatched Blockbuster, he recovered, climbing out of the surrounding rubble.

Julian noticed his massive enemy's recovery much too late as Blockbuster slammed both his hands into the ground, creating a shockwave that swept Sam and Julian off their feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blockbuster caught another one of these pesky children running at him. "You children should mind your own business," he stated as he readied a hearty punch for Kitty.

"Why do I always have to fight the big, dumb ones?" Kitty playfully lamented as she phased into her ghost-like state.

"I'll crush you to dust," Blockbuster yelled as he swung a massive fist at then through Kitty.

"You can't hit what you can't touch," Kitty taunted as she leaped feet-first through Blockbuster. Solidifying herself at the last possible second, she grabbed his head and used her momentum to throw him to the ground. She rolled away and readied herself for another attack.

"But as long as you're solid," Ruckus let out a scream directed towards Kitty, "you're vulnerable like the rest."

Kitty, surprised by the sheer force behind the scream, was hit. She flailed through the air then phased at the last second before hitting the ground.

"Katya!" Peter yelled as he charged Ruckus.

"Blockbuster, grab the Drake kid and let's go. These individuals bore me," Ruckus directed. Taking in a massive breath, Ruckus let another scream tear from his mouth, which hit Peter with the force of a speeding train. Peter was thrown back through a wall, much to Ruckus's pleasure.

Turning his attention back to Sam and Julian, Ruckus could feel the force burning deep inside of his body. A raging fire, it begged to be released, and Ruckus chose his targets. Opening his mouth, Ruckus let out a scream, which sent reverberations through the floors and walls then hit Julian and Nori as if they had been physically assaulted. The sheer force behind the scream threw them against the wall, nearly rendering them unconscious.

"Sometimes, you have to shout to be heard," Ruckus gloated, as he prepped for another scream.

"But sometimes a mere whisper can roar like thunder," Dani Moonstar whispered from right behind him. Before he could react, she made a psychic connection, pulling out the things he feared most and projecting them into his active consciousness. It only took a moment before Ruckus began to scream in utter anguish. No longer focused on bombarding the teens with a concentrated sonic blast, the screams were filled with sincere emotion as they died away. Ruckus was losing strength as Dani watched ruthlessly. "See your worst fear and revel in it."

Dani left a comatose Ruckus to tend to her friends. "He's out for the count," she told Sam.

"Remind me not to piss you off," Julian said.

"Looks like you've got another detention partner," Sam said, having overheard Emma's threat earlier.

"Blockbuster's going after Bobby!" Kitty said as she rose through the floor. She quickly scanned the room for the behemoth then spotted Blockbuster, already dangerously close to an unsuspecting Bobby, preoccupied with freezing Toad's feet in place.

"You're coming with me, brat," Blockbuster grinned triumphantly as he smashed his fist into the base of Bobby's skull, rendering him unconscious. He scooped Bobby up and threw him over his shoulder.

"Bobby!!" Rogue screamed.

Blockbuster spoke quickly into a microphone in his collar.

"Ah won't let ya take him!" Rogue screamed as she flew fist-first toward Blockbuster. 

She still felt shaky flying, but Rogue poured all of her energy into propelling herself forward, concentrating on maintaining a straight path.

Instead of retreating, Blockbuster stepped to the side, throwing Rogue off. Before she could shift her course, Blockbuster landed a solid backhand to her jaw, batting her clear across the room. Furniture broke under the force, and Rogue hit the unforgiving floor.

Without another word, Blockbuster disappeared in a flash of light, Bobby Drake in hand.

"Rogue!" Kitty ran to her side and helped her to her feet, concerned that she had been physically hurt. But the look on her face wasn't one of superficial pain. Tears fell from Rogue's eyes.

"I couldn't stop Blockbuster. Bobby's gone."

Notes:

Whew! I know it's been a while, but this fight scene really had me stuck. I think I finally got it where I wanted, but if you have any feedback, let me know.

Rommel22: Glad you like the story so far. Hope you like this chapter as well.

Ratdogtwo: I'm pleased you're keeping up with the story. Marrow won't be in this story, but she will be referenced in a future chapter.

HiddenCries77: I'm glad you're on my side about the Rogue and Bobby relationship thing. But as you can see, feelings don't go away that easily. We'll have to see if Rogue will set her eyes on the Cajun or not. And things are going to get better for Jean, but not before they get worse.

Gambitfan85: I wasn't particularly a fan of "Last Stand Rogue" either. But I think she's making up for it in this story. And eventually, you'll get to see just how Ororo and Bishop feel about Remy now that all this information has surfaced.

BlackIceAngel: Yes, Emma Frost is the ruthless character that we all love to hate. And I've made her even more so in this story. But as you can see, she can be nice when she wants to, which is hardly ever. They don't know that Bishop is a mutant yet, but they will find out, and in a big way. Yes, there were five Stepford Cuckoos to start with. Two of them were killed in normal X-Men continuity, leaving behind the three that are in the story. I really didn't want to complicate things, and I wanted to limit the characters so I simply used the three that are currently in the X-books now. My dad was telling me about that show Supernatural too, so since you're endorsing it as well, maybe I should check it out.


	16. Chapter 16

I.

Jean Grey watched Charles leave, then settled back in her chair with the reassurance that they would successfully find Scott. She also felt like she had been officially accepted back onto the team, which eased her tensions as well. Jean only hoped the other faculty and students would be as accepting as Charles, Hank, and Logan had been.

She sat in contemplative silence, ignoring the conversation between Logan and Hank. She couldn't keep her mind off Scott. His strong jaw line. Chiseled, slim frame. Awkward, yet sincere smile. Jean was scared that the Phoenix had somehow permanently stole Scott away from her, but finding out that he was still alive was more than a relief.

But then concern settled in. There was no reason why their psychic rapport would be disrupted or blocked, unless someone was doing it on purpose. And someone who could do that had to be powerful. And dangerous.

But who could it be? Surely, Magneto hadn't found some fledgling psychic to manipulate, turning the young mutant against his or her own kind. No, there weren't that many psychics at the level that Jean and Charles were at. Emma Frost came close. David Haller and Julian Keller could be one day. But of all the mutants Charles had researched, none could possibly be able to block Jean.

Unless there was someone new.

Jean shivered at the thought of a new, powerful threat, looming at the edges of their well-being, waiting to spring a surprise attack at any given moment. But maybe she was jumping to conclusions.

She pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear then sat back down at the table with Logan and Hank. She began to say something, but a psionic message cut into her thoughts.

It was Emma. _"Jean, we're under attack."_

For only a fraction of a second, Jean froze, processing the notion that some unknown danger, probably the same one that shielded Scott from her, had surfaced, finally making its nefarious scheme known.

_"I can't find Charles,"_ Emma telepathically continued. The desperation in her voice was unmistakable—whatever was happening was happening fast and now. In only fractions of fractions of a second, Emma psychically connected with Jean, showing Jean the entire scene through Emma's eyes. There was chaotic fighting, students and faculty against unknown mutants.

"Somethin's wrong," Logan stood. His keen hearing and sense of smell had picked up what Jean was seeing. He turned to Jean as if knowing she was aware.

Jean ignored Logan's question as she replied to Emma telepathically, _"Charles must be in Cerebro. It's heavily shielded against psychic interference. We're coming to help."_ Turning to Hank and Logan, Jean explained. "Someone's attacking the school. Mutants, seven of them. Emma and the students are holding them at bay while the younger ones escape to the Danger Room."

Logan sprang to his feet, and took off down the hallway, followed by Jean and Hank.

"Hank, the students—" Jean began.

"Consider my servitude already reserved for our young charges," he responded as he took a sharp left down the hallway towards the Danger Room. They had run through the emergency drill several times, but he knew that there would be chaos and confusion. And there was no telling whether the other faculty members were engaged with the enemy or safeguarding the 

students.

As Jean and Logan ran through the hallway side by side, she focused her telepathy, quickly discerning the situation on the floors above. And it didn't look good.

"Logan, we've got to get upstairs to—"

Jean's abrupt pause stopped Logan in his tracks and he immediately popped his claws. He sniffed the faint breeze in the hallway and let a low growl escape his throat. They both spotted the narrow crimson slit where a normal man's eyes would be, cutting through the dark corridor.

Taking a step into the light, Scott Summers kept his visor pinned on Jean and Logan.

"Scott?!" Jean's breath caught in her throat and her mouth suddenly felt dry. As a telepath, Jean shouldn't have been caught off guard by his presence, but something was shielding his mind from mind scans. She knew that eventually, they would find him, but it made it no less exhilarating seeing him again.

Though clothed differently, Scott still had the same firm jawline, tightly set mouth, and slender build that she remembered. He hadn't changed any, yet Jean could feel a different aura around him. Something wrong. Something evil.

Before Jean could say anything, another feral growl boiled over from Logan.

"Logan, wait," she soothed. "Scott?" she took a hesitant step towards him. "Is it really you?"

"Jean," Scott tenderly replied.

She felt her heart flutter slightly and a sense of joy and relief cascaded through her body. Before Jean stood the man that would withstand death for her and would brave hell itself to come back to her. She knew this because she felt the same about him.

Jean took another step, but Logan grabbed her wrist. "Somethin' don't smell right. He's got somethin' else's stench all over him. It's the same thing I smelled on the card we found on that girl."

Logan could feel Jean's awe and compassion for the man she truly loved. Logan knew Jean was attracted to his raw, animalistic emotions, but it was Scott that truly held her heart. And that was something that Logan had accepted. Right now, his interference wasn't out of jealousy, but out of a sixth sense feeling of peril.

"I'm here for you, Jean," Scott said, reaching his hand out to her.

"Scott, what happened to you? There's so much that's happened…so much I have to tell you." She looked longingly at his hand and wanted to take it. She wanted Scott to wrap her in his arms, and everything to return to normal. But she quickly returned to the fact that there were intruders in the mansion. And Scott's appearance correlated with the intrusion. Therefore, the two had to be related.

Logan stepped between Jean and Scott. "You're not taking her anywhere, bub. Not until you tell me who the hell you're working for. And why you didn't tell us you weren't dead?"

Scott coolly responded, "I don't answer to you. Bub."

Despite the psychic block earlier, Jean was determined to reach Scott. She reached out to Scott psychically to discern his true motives. But she wasn't ready for the violent psychic backlash which knocked her off her feet.

"Jean!" Logan shouted. Scott took a step forward, but Logan whipped around with his claw extended. "I don't know what the hell you did, but you take another step, and you'll be walking with one leg."

"Really?" Scott mused, his caring demeanor replaced by a cold confidence. "Well, let's 

see what you've got."

Logan charged and swiped downward, nearly taking off Scott's arm. But the slender man proved faster, leaping backward then springing forward with a well-timed side kick. It connected, but Logan's adrenaline didn't let him feel it. Instead, he swung around with a backhand swipe. Scott barely dodged, but retaliated with his own barrage of punches. More than a few hit, but Logan wasn't fazed. He tackled Scott and raised a claw, ready to strike down his old teammate.

But a crimson blast tore Logan off of his opponent and sent him sprawling through the air. He hit the floor hard, landing near Jean.

As Logan sprang back to his feet, Jean was slowly recovering, barely standing steadily. Never had she been psychically repelled so forcefully. Someone was exerting influence over Scott's thoughts and actions, making them inaccessible to Jean. Which meant Scott was in danger.

And so were they.

II.

Charles Xavier's mind raced through not only the possible survival of Scott Summers, but also through the series of seemingly unrelated events that were currently unfolding around them. As he wheeled through the sterile hallways of the mansion's sub-basement, Charles couldn't help but to think that something was amiss.

There was some key element that they were missing with Warren's disappearance, and Charles was determined to find that missing piece. Knowing that the X-Men, led by Ororo, and Moira's team were taking care of the field work, Charles knew that the thread piecing it all together would be found only with Cerebro's help.

Cerebro was a magnificent supercomputer, initially built by Charles and Erik, when they first generated the idea of seeking out other mutants throughout the world. And in that respect, it worked far beyond their original intentions. With modifications from Forge and Hank, Cerebro served as an integral tool for Xavier's cause.

And right now, Charles planned on using it to its fullest extent.

"Cerebro," Charles said as he entered the vast room. Voice activation and interaction were added recently by Hank, which Charles still wasn't particularly comfortable with, but he was coming to appreciate the modification. The doors closed quietly behind him as he continued, "Retrieve all instances in the past forty-eight hours of all incidents involving mutants."

Projected onto the screens were different news clippings and replaying reports of the requested information. Charles donned the apparatus that connected him psychically to Cerebro, which allowed him to process all of the information as fast as his own thoughts.

Among the information, he found the coverage of the mutant massacre Detective Bishop was investigating. To his surprise, there was also a story involving the apparent kidnapping of Josh Foley, the new student Sean was supposed to pick up. He also found quite a few instances of unexplained murders of mutants and normal humans. All of the cases had a mutant involved, but not all of them had normal humans involved. Charles duly noted that fact and continued with his pursuit.

Now interacting with it mentally, Charles made his next requests telepathically.

_"Cross-reference the mutant victims with the known mutant database and display a _

_summary of their abilities."_

In even less time than before, Cerebro displayed the information, which surprised Charles. None of the mutants that were victims has any sort of destructive mutant ability. Most had an altered physical appearance, a passive ability, or latent abilities that had not yet surfaced and probably would never. There was only a handful that actually wielded offensive abilities, such as Jeanne-Marie Beaubier.

_"Now, scan the reports and display any common threads among them."_

Charles was surprised to find that in most cases, there were eye witness accounts of four mutants, either separate or together.

One, a female mutant that manipulated metal and somehow unleashed deadly diseases on surrounding victims. Another, a fiery entity, capable of draining victims of their life force, leaving them withered as if they had starved to death. The next, a hellish fiend that ripped and tore its victims apart with its bare hands. And the last, and most disturbing to Charles, an angel that left a trail of death in its wake.

_"Access the database again and cross-reference the abilities of these individuals with potential matches."_ Charles read the information then slowly, everything started coming together in a chilling way.

Lorna Dane. Polaris. Manipulation of Earth's magnetic field, which allows control over all metal objects.

Shiro Yoshida. Sunfire. Absorption of solar radiation, which is emitted as flame.

Hector Caliban. Caliban. Psychic ability to perceive altered mutant genes. In addition, peak human strength, agility, endurance, and reflexes.

Warren Worthington III. Angel. Wing-propelled flight, enhanced body structure, latent healing ability.

Though Charles already knew, he had to validate. _"Compare list to employee roster for the Worthington excavation."_ Within a second, the names were highlighted, signifying a match with three of the four. And suddenly, Warren's disappearance didn't seem so unrelated.

Four mutants, bearing a striking resemblance to four mutants at the Worthington excavation were now wreaking havoc. For all Charles knew at this point, Warren, along with the other three, had been kidnapped, brainwashed, and were under some maniac's servitude. But for what purpose? And what did it have to do with the excavation?

Suddenly, Charles wasn't so sure he wanted Moira investigating the area. If Warren and the others couldn't protect themselves, Moira was only putting herself in danger by going to Egypt. And whatever the excavation team found was probably still there.

Charles opened a line to the X-Jet, hoping to catch Moira before they arrived in Egypt. His heart skipped a beat when a panicked Moira appeared on the telecommunications projection. "Moira, are you okay? What's wrong?" Charles questioned, not trying to hide his own concern.

"Charles! Thank the heavens! Ah was getting' worried about ye. The normal communications channels are blocked. Ah was sure something had happened."

"Everything's fine here, Moira," he replied as he made a mental note to check the security measures, but now, the focus of his concern was for Moira. "I want you to abort the mission to Egypt."

Moira shook her head. "It's too late for that. We've already been there. Charles, they all were killed. We only found one survivor. We're bringing him back to the mansion."

"Killed? What about Warren? And are you with anyone else?"

"There was no sign o' him. Forge, Jaime, and David are with me. But there's something 

else. David felt something, a presence that claimed only the strong would survive. I cannae be sure what the lad meant, but there is something strange out there, Charles. And I think it may be headed this way."

David Haller. A young man whose vast psychic powers alienate him from the rest of the world. Charles wished Moira hadn't taken him out, but if he had made some kind of psychic connection with whatever was out there, Charles would be able to glean information about the entity from David's mind.

"Make haste, Moira. I have found some disturbing information, which may tell us what we're dealing with."

"Aye. Moira out."

The telecommunications projection vanished, leaving Charles with his own feelings of dread. _"Cerebro, find reference material matching the other characteristics, excluding the matching mutant abilities."_

Appearing before him were snapshots of ancient scrolls, with even older hieroglyphics imprinted on them. Egyptian hieroglyphics to be exact. Charles squinted as he tried to recall the meanings of the symbols, but the meaning kept eluding him.

"Translate."

Immediately, paragraphs of information appeared, and after Charles read through it, he suddenly understood what they were facing and what happened to the four mutants. He ended the session, unnerved and uneasy. But as the doors slid open, the shouts and running, coupled with thoughts of danger, nearly knocked him out of his wheelchair.

"It's too late," Charles lamented, as he realized the wheels of destiny had already been set in motion.

III.

"So what's it gonna be, Cyke?" Logan stood between Scott and Jean, claws bared.

Scott Summers stared the X-Man down, his eyes hidden behind his ruby quartz visor. In his mind, he was already devising several ways to take Logan down, taking into account Logan's healing factor, fighting ability, and heightened senses. But his face betrayed nothing.

Jean knew from experience what was going through Scott's mind. But she knew Logan was doing the same. The years of martial arts training coupled with his ferocious nature made him unpredictable, which Logan used to his advantage. The two men were in a standoff, each one waiting for the other one to make a move.

The advantage was clearly on their side. Jean and Logan against Scott. Scott's beams were destructive, but linear. Logan could easily move in, and close quarters is where Logan was most dangerous. Jean's advantage was her long range telekinesis, which could easily deflect an energy attack, courtesy of augmentation from the Phoenix.

"Don't stand between us, Logan," Scott commanded.

"If you're with those clowns upstairs, and if one of those kids get hurt, it's your head I'm coming after."

"I'm leaving with Jean. And you're not invited."

"Like hell!" Logan charged forward, only remotely hearing a protest from Jean.

Scott reacted quickly, shooting a beam above Jean, which caused the ceiling to collapse around her. The shot was well-placed, causing structural damage that shook the entire section of the basement, which began to collapse. Using her telekinesis to hold the structure of the 

basement gave Scott the precise time he needed to incapacitate Logan.

Scott ripped off his visor, bombarding Logan with crimson energy. Logan tried to hold his ground. He leaned into the force, shielding his eyes from the bright light accompanied by Scott's attack. But Logan felt the ground tearing away under the pressure of the optic blast and suddenly, Logan lost his footing and was thrown backwards. He felt his skin burning to a crisp under the heat and light.

Logan smashed into a wall, fell to his knees, and then collapsed.

"Logan!" Jean shouted, but she knew that given time, he would recover. She focused creating a telekinetic shield around herself. Scott turned the blast toward her, which was absorbed and deflected. But the strain was eating away at Jean much faster than she had anticipated. Scott poured his all into his attack, causing Jean to slide backwards against the pressure.

"Scott, please. Don't do this," Jean pleaded through gritted teeth. Scott always worried about losing control, and now Jean fully understood why. Scott's current energy level output was enough to power New York City for weeks with little effort. She saw the walls around them melting and buckling under the immense energy from both Scott and Jean, two powerhouses, locked in a stalemate.

If they continued, the school would come down around them and the rest of the students in the mansion. She had no choice. Jean wanted to save the school. And she wanted to save Scott. If he came here to take her, then the only way to save the others was to sacrifice herself. Again.

Jean breathed deeply, knowing that her next move would hurt. She braced herself, and let a fraction of Scott's energy beam penetrate her telekinetic shield. Though only a fraction of the attack, the crimson energy blasted her painfully in the midsection, throwing her against the wall.

As she lost consciousness, Jean swore she heard Scott psychically calling for her to help him.

Immediately, Scott closed his eyes, unwilling to do any further harm to Jean. Replacing his visor, he aimed at the broken steel beams and melted them together, providing a makeshift fix which would hold the structure together for a short period of time. Long enough for someone like Hank or Forge to fix it before anything collapsed.

He then cradled Jean in his arms, and lifted her carefully, taking a moment to admire her peaceful face. She was the woman whose face kept eluding him. There was some connection between the two of them that kept escaping. But fragments and pieces of a life once lived kept surfacing, but would fade away when he tried to grasp them.

A groan from Logan, snapped Scott back to the task at hand. Scott knew his healing factor was already repairing the damage both inside and outside.

"I thought I told you before, stay away from my girl. Maybe this time, you'll listen. Marauders, target retrieved, Cyclops out." In a flash, Scott and Jean disappeared.

Only a fraction of a second later, Sage rounded the corner, and spotted the horribly charred figure. Immediately analyzing the energy levels in the corridor and Logan's condition, Sage quickly pieced together what happened.

_"I wasn't fast enough, Emma,"_ Sage telepathically communicated. _"Jean's been taken. And from the looks of things down here, I would say we have another X-Man who has made an unannounced return from the grave."_

IV.

Before they arrived at their destination, Bishop explained more to Ororo than Remy that that his outfit was working outside of the main N.Y.P.D. headquarters. Ororo expected a small, nondescript building set back on a side street. Instead, Bishop pulled into the parking space of a rather large, gothic building. Having two stories, it looked as though it should have been a museum of some sort, and the inside solidified that fact.

Inside the front doors, Ororo was greeted to a high, vaulted ceiling, marble floors, and hand-carved balcony rails. A fountain sat in the middle of the floor, the front desk situated around behind it as an afterthought.

"Surprised?" Bishop noted Ororo's as her eyes panned across the room.

"Somewhat. I cannot believe that this is your base of operations. I expected something less extravagant…more covert."

Bishop led the way, taking them through a door to the left. "We moved our operation into this old art museum. And with it being nearly in the middle of the city, it provides an advantageous location when we have to respond. It's spacious, a little too much, but it serves us well for what we need. Including holding people like you, LeBeau."

Remy snorted in reply, but didn't resist as Bishop headed down a lengthy hallway. After a few turns, Ororo began to comprehend how large and maze-like the building actually was. More than likely, it secretly connected to other buildings in the city through an underground passageway. She understood why Bishop would have chosen and stayed in such a facility.

As they made their way through Bishop's current headquarters, Ororo noted the few police officers scattered throughout the hallways, absorbed in their own operations. She expected the place to be swarming with policemen and criminals. But it was quiet. Too quiet.

Ororo kept her observations to herself as Bishop led them into an interrogation room. Ororo sat down in a hard folding chair off to the side of Bishop and Remy. A soft white light hung from the ceiling with a dark shad draped over it, casting the interrogation room into a tomb filled with shifting shadows.

It was the first time Ororo had been inside of a police interrogation room, and it was exactly like they showed on television: a large table in the middle of the room, two chairs opposite each other, dark and dreary, and a large one-way mirror. With the cop on one side and the criminal on the other.

Bishop and Remy entered a stare-down of sorts, which reminded Ororo of the situation back at the airport. The tension in the room was stifling, and she thought about leaving. But a part of her wanted to know whether Remy was really involved with these horrendous incidents they had investigated. She wanted him to be innocent. Ororo _needed_ him to be innocent.

With everything else that had happened up to this point, she didn't know how she would react to yet another betrayal within their ranks. Regardless of how she wanted this to turn out, Ororo prepared herself for the worst.

"So how long are we going to play this game, LeBeau?" Bishop slammed his hands on the desk, and got right in Remy's face. "Either you're going start talking, or I'm going to throw your ass in jail. Either way I get what I want."

Remy narrowed his eyes, but didn't reply.

"So you're not going to talk?" Bishop paused but when Remy didn't reply, he said, "You weren't aware that the X.S.E. has been tracking you for some time, were you?"

He detected a slight shift from Remy. Bishop knew he surprised him. But it was just the first of many surprises he had in store.

"X.S.E?" Ororo repeated.

"Xavier's Security Enforcers. We're Xavier's method of patrolling and securing the mutant and human population within the bounds of the law. There are only a handful of us, but we're dedicated to his ideals and will continue to help where we can."

Another one of Xavier's secrets. Ororo clenched her jaw, but said nothing.

Remy narrowed his eyes, "So dat makes you—"

"You're smarter than you look, LeBeau. I'm a mutant. And an X-Man."

Notes:

Kitty2228: Thanks for the kind words! Glad you liked the fights scenes and Warren's scene. They were pretty hard to write, so I'm glad they came together in a successful way.

BlackIceAngel: Yes, fight scenes are definitely hard to write. Thanks for the compliment on this one. I understood what you meant about the dialogue between Sage and Emma, so I did a small edit to make it a little clearer. I can't say that I've seen the spoilers for the Wolverine movie. I may have to do a little searching tonight on that topic. So, what did you think of the Jean and Scott, with a little Logan thrown in, confrontation?

1192WhitePhoenixOfTheCrown: I'm glad you've taken a liking to this story.

PyroWhore: Well, hopefully you continue to enjoy the next few chapters as well.

Ratdogtwo: Yeah, Jeanne-Marie met quite a gruesome end. I have a feeling there will be more casualties.

Marie: Yes, they got Bobby. And now Jean. Looks like the X-Men aren't faring well against protecting their own thus far. I don't know if Romy will make it into the story, but I have a feeling their paths are going to cross quite soon.


	17. Chapter 17

I.

Ororo Munroe didn't want to be the first one to speak. There was no way that she would be able to control her tone as to not reveal her surprise, mistrust, and hurt. She, along with Remy, learned that Charles Xavier had another secret team operating within the N.Y.P.D., presumably led by Detective Lucas Bishop, who now sat across from Remy.

The room suddenly felt much smaller and darker, and Ororo felt a small claustrophobic attack coming on. Since the incident that took her parents' lives and left her buried with them for days, Ororo had developed claustrophobia, a severe fear of enclosed or tight spaces. Usually, it was triggered as a reaction to actually being in a tight enclosure, but sometimes, the symptoms would surface when she was in emotional turmoil. Like now.

How many more secrets of Xavier's would they stumble across? What was his ultimate goal and intention? Was he really true to his words, or was there something more that would ultimately end in their defeat? More questions erupted in Ororo's mind, but she ignored them, for fear of losing her cool. Instead, she focused on the situation at hand, suppressing her claustrophobic attack.

Remy LeBeau had some connection to the Mutant Massacre—the murder of a significant number of the Morlocks, mutant outcasts once misled by Magneto. They found one survivor, a girl by the name of Tommy. Being psychically connected to her by Jean Grey, they were able to experience the massacre from her perspective, and subsequently found one of Remy's cards, identified with Logan's keen sense of smell.

Detective Bishop apparently had been tracking Remy for some time, as a member of the X.S.E. Ororo waited for Bishop, who had moments ago also revealed himself to be a mutant, to continue.

"Let's get back to the situation at hand. Here's what we've got so far: we know you've been employed by a man who goes by Nathaniel Essex for quite some time. Or maybe I should refer to him as Mr. Sinister. He's a criminal scientist, notorious for his experimentation on mutants, including you."

Remy tensed but said nothing.

"You and your group of mutants, at Sinister's request, headed to New York to kill off a group of mutants, another faction of the Morlocks. And now, you came here to finish the job."

"Now dat's a lie!"

Bishop smirked, realizing he had struck a nerve. "Losing your cool, LeBeau?"

Remy sat back but didn't give in to Bishop's prodding.

"You owe us an explanation, Remy," Ororo sat forward, her blue eyes boring through Remy. "I cannot bring myself to believe that you work for this Sinister—I trusted you. And now, if your actions have been nothing but a ruse to betray our trust, I would rather watch you rot in prison than allow you to poison our school."

Bishop's words didn't bother Remy in the least. He had seen and dealt with many supposedly tough cops. But Ororo's words bit him to the bone, and he felt his hard exterior crumbling at the thought of endangering or disappointing her.

"It's not dat simple," Remy replied. For the first time, he locked eyes with Ororo. He searched for something in her blue eyes, a sign that if he revealed what he knew that she would believe him. But as Remy studied her, Ororo studied him without betraying any of her feelings.

At last, Ororo responded, "Sinister _was_ your employee, was he not?"

"I—"

"Yes or no, Remy. No more games. No more lies."

Remy averted his eyes, then looked straight on, staring Bishop down. "Yes."

"And you led him to the Morlocks in New York?" she continued.

"Yes."

"Treacherous liar! How could you?" Ororo felt the electrons in the room respond to her heightened emotional level. She breathed deeply, ignoring the curious glance from Bishop. "We offered you a home when you had none. A family where you had none. A life where you had none. Yet, now I find you carry the deaths of fellow mutants on your hands. Were the students next on your hit list?"

"I would never—"

"You never would what, Remy? You never would hurt us? It is far too late for that," Ororo shook her head and for a moment, Bishop thought she was going to strike out at Remy. But instead, she calmly locked eyes with him and said, "I shall have Detective Bishop bring your things. You are no longer welcome at our school."

Of all the things that Bishop could have said or done, there was no way he could have ever hit Remy as hard as Ororo's words had. For a moment, Remy simply sat there, registering Ororo's words. Then, he asked, "You won't listen to what I have to say?"

"I have a woman that killed mercilessly, I have a mentor that lied to us, and then there you are, a person who stole the lives of innocent mutants. There is nothing you can say that I have not heard already."

"I'm sorry," Remy whispered.

"Relay your apologies to the mutants you murdered in cold blood," Ororo continued her stride towards the door, holding back her own emotions.

"Storm!" Remy called, a last attempt at salvation. "Don't leave. Not until Remy tells the whole story. At least give Remy dat chance."

Ororo breathed deeply, only realizing at that moment that she had been holding her breath. Her hand gripped the icy knob, but she didn't make a move to leave. Ororo kept her eyes on the door, waiting.

Seizing his moment, Remy began, "I never knew my parents. I was adopted by Jean-Luc LeBeau and raised t' be a thief."

Bishop exhaled loudly and sat back in his chair, obviously exasperated at Remy's story of his life. All he wanted to know was the current location of Sinister and his flunkies. But Ororo gave him what he needed at that moment—a listening ear. Deciding that patience was going to be key in this situation, Bishop didn't interrupt. Instead, he listened.

"Then I ran away with nothing but de clothes on my back. I knew then that I was a mutant, but my powers…I didn't understand them. And before I knew it, they were goin' outta control. I found a doctor, Nathaniel Essex, he said dat he could help. For a price."

Bishop shook his head. Classic case of a used runaway. Still, he didn't quite give in to Remy's story. There was something _too_ innocent about his circumstance, and Remy didn't seem to be that innocent of a guy. But then again, Remy didn't seem to be the type to lie about his past. He continued listening, realizing that his own personal feelings were changing.

"They were petty thief jobs, gettin' equipment and funds for him to use."

Bishop sat forward on his elbows. "Were you aware of his genetic experimentation?"

"Nah. Remy respects privacy. Dat's a rule. No questions. Essex told me to find a mutant named Tommy. She had double-crossed him and stolen somethin' havin' t' do with his 

work. So, Remy trailed her and a whole bunch of her friends. But dat's when they came. De Marauders. Sinister's pet mutant assassins."

Remy trailed off as he remembered the horror on Tommy's face as the Marauders burst in. The screams as the deformed mutants with no formal training fell to the vicious Marauders. Gambit saw Tommy escape, and he was able to snag a young girl and get her to safety. But they were the only two survivors.

"Dey killed without mercy, and Remy couldn't stop them alone. Word on the street told of de X-Men, a group o' mutants fightin' for what's right. When Remy heard of de school and how de X-Men stopped Magneto, Remy knew if anyone could stop Sinister, dey could."

Finally facing Remy, Ororo pointedly asked, "Did you assist in some way on the attack of Sean and the others?"

"No."

Bishop inquired, "Why did they kidnap Josh Foley?"

Remy shook his head. "All Remy know is dat Essex was into something way over his head. Somethin' havin' t' do wid Apocalypse."

"Apocalypse?" Ororo repeated. Something about it seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

Remy finished, "De first mutant."

That was it. The excavation by Warrington Incorporated. In the details of the report, Ororo had read that they were searching for the first occurrences of mutants. And their research had led them to Egypt. Suddenly, things seemed to be coming together. But for Ororo, that only meant that the problem they were faced with was much bigger than they initially thought.

"We would have helped you if you had only come to us with this, Remy. Now, I cannot tell if your words ring true or simply the smooth lies of a thief, squirming as the cage closes in."

He shook his head with regret, "Remy can't make you believe anythin' he say. But it's de truth."

"After everything that's happened, it is hard for me to discern what the truth is anymore. I'll be outside," Ororo coldly replied. The creaking of the door seemed loud in the uncomfortable silence and when Ororo shut the door, it slammed much hard and loud, echoing through the desolate hallways.

Ororo pulled out her sleek cell phone, which doubled as a communication device back to Xavier's. However, when she tried to connect, the line appeared to be down, which struck her as odd. Just to make sure, Ororo moved down the hallway, hoping it was just a weak signal, but nothing changed. Instinctively, Ororo knew something was wrong.

"You could've been a cop, you know," Bishop commented as he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "There's something about you—an edge—that most people don't have."

"As a fellow X-Man, you should know that it is a requirement to have such a quality."

Bishop felt a twinge of annoyance in her voice. "Look, I didn't mean to surprise you with my involvement or my investigation. Xavier made it clear that our teams were to remain separate and our existence discreet from everyone."

"No doubt, it was for our own good?" Ororo cynically asked.

"A lot has happened to erode your trust. Everyone has their secrets, but Xavier's intentions are benevolent. He continues to stay true to his dream of human and mutant co-existence. You're not going to agree with his choices, and you shouldn't. That's why you're 

headmistress of that school. Xavier trusts you, more than you realize. Maybe it's time you did the same."

Ororo shook her head. "Such a thing is easy for you to say. You have not—"

"Dealt with what you're going through? Trust me, I have. Ten times over. Let's just say that my life has taken a few twists and turns, including losing my partners and my sister. And all of it in the name of the greater good. Yeah, I could internalize it and hate the world. That's easy. But to keep on fighting and trusting—that's the hard part. But that's what I choose to do."

A conversation about her personal feelings wasn't something Ororo was used to. Especially with a stranger. Changing the subject, she asked, "What of Remy?"

Bishop shrugged. "The guy's cunning and conniving, the signature of a professional thief. But his story lines up, and though I hate to admit it, the kid has a good heart. He's just a magnet for trouble."

Ororo shook her head. "I presumed you would reveal some intricate detail that I was unaware of to sway my waning opinion."

"That's up to you to change. For me, I'm satisfied. I can validate his story against our investigation history. We've been after Sinister for quite some time, and from the looks of things, LeBeau is simply a victim of circumstance. At this point, he is still the best chance we have of getting Sinister."

"So bringing us into the investigation was simply a ploy to get closer to Remy," she surmised.

"No," Bishop answered without hesitation. "The mutant massacre caught us completely off guard. And we don't have the ability to handle something like that. I respect and value what the X-Men bring to the table. But after talking to him, I know that there's something bigger going on. Those mutants from Tommy's mind, you know them, don't you?"

Ororo shifted her weight. "I suspect that one of them is our missing teammate, Warren Worthington III. He went to Egypt to investigate something strange we detected in Egypt. When I saw that image, I knew that we had found our missing teammate and that he may be our enemy."

"Not by choice. Just like LeBeau. Just like Jean. There's a high level of risk in the line of work we've chosen. Sometimes, the lines between good and bad change like the wind. In the end, it's what's in that person's heart that shows their true nature. Your teammate has been brainwashed, but somehow, you can bring him back. Jean's come back. Though I personally don't trust LeBeau, something tells me you can. He wants to change for the better, and it's thanks to that school. And you."

Ororo leaned against the wall for support. Bishop's words were true. Deep down, she knew that if Jean had a true choice, she would not have betrayed them. Warren surely would not choose to fight against them. Something had pulled their strings, used the both of them as pawns in something much larger than all of them. They were victims. And the X-Men were there to help them.

"I shall take your words into account, but my heart is not so easily swayed," Ororo admitted. "However, I shall ask that Remy be turned over into the school's custody. At least until the investigation is complete."

"Agreed."

"I am having difficultly getting in contact with the school. The communication signal seems to be broken."

Bishop pulled out a similar cell phone and after checking it, came to the same conclusion. "I'll try to get in contact with my men," he said. "Ortega, this is Bishop. Come in," Bishop spoke in a hushed whisper into a radio apparently affixed somehow into his collar. When nothing but static replied, Bishop took the lead. "I don't like this. Something's disrupting all of the communications lines."

The lights flickered. Then they were cast in darkness. Nothing but pale light illuminated the halls, creating amorphous shadows that could easily hide a threat.

"Much too coincidental, do you not agree?" Ororo asked.

Bishop pulled a strange-looking gun from his holster. "I'll grab LeBeau."

Bishop re-entered the interrogation room, surprised to see Remy already on his feet, making his way toward him.

"Turn around. I'm taking off the cuffs."

Remy let Bishop unlock and remove the tight cuffs. Rubbing his wrists, Remy asked, "Change of heart, mon ami?"

"No. You can thank Ororo later," he replied.

Remy pointed upwards. "What about de lights? Forget to pay de electric bill?"

"Seems like we may have some visitors. Maybe it's some friends of yours coming to break you out of jail."

Remy pulled out pulled out a playing card and charged it with kinetic energy, bathing a small radius around them in a vermilion-colored light. "Or maybe someone else has taken an interest in ol' Remy."

Bishop didn't like the sound of that, but said nothing as the duo joined Ororo in the hallway. He led the way as they carefully sneaked through the hallways, stopping occasionally to check out the many rooms for a sign of another living person with no success.

"Looks like dey all went for a doughnut break," Remy commented as they made their way down another maze-like hallway.

"Another cheap cop joke and you go back to the interrogation room in cuffs," Bishop shot.

Remy grinned. "Next time won't be so easy, mon ami."

Ororo, ahead of Bishop and Remy, entered the large foyer area of the building and immediately stopped in her tracks. "By the goddess," she whispered, viewing the bodies strewn about. Blood and various appendages were strewn about, tossed around as if they were toys discarded by a toddler. The scene was horrifying.

But for Ororo, seeing the culprits with her own eyes was even more so.

"Warren?" Ororo gasped, horrified at the transformation he had undergone. His angelic features were replaced by dark characteristics, twisting his expressions into something utterly evil.

Warren hovered above the scene, kept aloft by an occasional, rhythmic flap of his metal wings. Lorna and Shiro floated next to him, held aloft by their own powers respectively. Caliban, the only grounded one, wiped thick, crimson blood from his milky white forearms.

Noticing Ororo, Warren said, "Death. Famine. War. Pestilence. We are the Horsemen of Apocalypse, charged with weeding the weak from the strong." Turning his attention solely to Remy, Warren added, "Though you are strong, Gambit, you have made a fatal mistake. And now, we're here to take care of it."

"You under orders from Sinister?" Bishop asked.

"We serve Lord Apocalypse, not Sinister," Warren strongly replied. "I simply refuse to believe you value this street urchin over your beloved Jean Grey and Robert Drake." Warren caught the look of horror cross Ororo's face. "Maybe you should be using your efforts to save them. Remy isn't worth it."

"If you are responsible for any of my students or faculty being hurt, you shall suffer ten times over," thunder crashed overhead, punctuating Ororo's threat. "I shall only ask once—stand down and allow the Professor to help you."

"We don't need help, we're right where we belong," Lorna replied with an evil grin.

"Enough talk!" Shiro poured a stream of incinerating flames down towards the trio. Ororo held out her hand, directing a wind current to easily dissipate the attack.

"Gambit, attack their leader. Bishop, the female is yours. I shall take care of our present attacker," Ororo directed. The clear blue of her eyes clouded over with pure white, a sign that Ororo's powers were in full effect. Concentrating, she pulled the moisture from the air, cooling it to below freezing, while bringing in a rainstorm, seemingly from nowhere.

Before Shiro could react, a whirlwind of ice, freezing wind and rain, and fog whipped around him, the air currents taking away the fuel for his fire. Shivering uncontrollably and trying to maintain the constant flames pouring off his skin, Shiro dove towards Ororo, streamlining his body for maximum speed. But his flames flickered then died, and he crashed to the floor, unconscious, covered in a thin layer of sleet.

Simultaneously, a barrage of kinetically charged cards sailed towards Warren. Just as before, his wings reacted of their own accord, shielding Warren's body from the explosions.

"Take care of LeBeau! Now!" Warren coldly directed.

"I'll kill you, Gambit," Caliban charged at him.

"That's what dey all say." In a flash, Remy leaped into the air, flipped, and landed behind the behemoth. He kicked a chair towards Caliban, and as he batted it away, Remy came across his face with his staff. With a well-timed sweep, Caliban was thrown off-balance. Remy immediately pounced on him, charging his staff and bringing it down on Caliban for a mini-explosion.

Warren shot a series of feathers at Remy, each one impaling itself into his back. He grimaced, which gave Caliban enough time to bat him off, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Caliban rose to his feet, and charged toward Remy. "Cajun weasel! I'll crush you!"

Remy reached for a card, but his body was lethargic and slow. There was no way he would be able to save himself.

A chilling wind swirled around Caliban, slowing his movements.

"What's happening?" his voice came out in short, quivering huffs as the icy air became increasingly harder to take in. His limbs refused to cooperate as he neared Remy, who was now on his hands and knees, racked with the poison from Warren's feathers.

"Feel the bite of the Arctic winds, monster!" Ororo stated as she drew the temperature down drastically.

Caliban slowed to a complete stop, frozen in place.

Despite one of his own being subdued, Warren's focus was on Remy. Taking flight, he dove straight for Remy like an eagle, baring down on its prey, intending to take him out once and for all. Remy noticed the attack much too late and was in no position to protect himself. Internally, Remy braced himself for whatever was going to happen.

"You may fly on the wind, Death, but it is mine to control," Ororo lifted her hands skyward as the air currents shifted, bending to her will and her will alone. Creating a mini-whirlwind, Warren's flight path was shaken then he was twirled about until Ororo dispersed the whirlwind, throwing Warren against the wall.

At the same time, Bishop was engaged in a fight with Lorna. He fired his dual plasma pistols in rapid succession, but Lorna easily maneuvered the metal objects in the room to deflect the attacks.

"Fool! Stand aside and give us the traitor. You are among the strong, so we will spare your life."

Bishop continued to fire, slowly circling Lorna as she hovered with her makeshift shields. "The same way you spared the Morlocks? So we can live to have Apocalypse enslave us? No chance, lady."

With a flick of her hand, the metal reformed into spears and flew towards Bishop. Moving much faster than most men of his size, Bishop ran, leaped and rolled behind a desk, the spears barely missing their mark.

Attention drawn by a loud thud, Lorna turned to witness Warren slam into the wall. She quickly pieced together that somehow, the one named Storm had been responsible. "You wind witch! The mistress of magnetism will now deal with you."

"Your mistake. Never leave your opponent unattended until you're sure they've been neutralized," Bishop's hand glowed with stored energy and in less than a second, he had released a blast, hitting Lorna in the midsection. Caught off guard, Lorna panicked, sending all the metal objects in the room flying in a storm of confusion.

Ororo was struck from behind by a metal chair, while Bishop barely dodged a large metal desk.

"Storm!" Bishop called, but she already knew what to do.

Still belly-to-ground, Ororo lifted her hands, summoning a bolt of lightning. She cast it out, channeling it through all of the metal items, creating a spectacular display of white lightning. It danced about, feeding off of the electrical charge in the room, growing with every rebound off of the metal objects until it all bombarded Lorna at once.

Lorna barely managed a scream as she tumbled from the sky.

"We cannot continue this fight. Not now," Ororo said to Bishop.

Bishop, who was next to Remy, grabbed his hand. "LeBeau, charge me up!"

Remy hesitated for a moment. He had never charged up a living creature, let alone an actual person. And he could feel the poison seeping through his veins, weakening him with every passing moment. Still, if it afforded them the chance to escape and save the school, Remy was willing to give Bishop every last drop of energy he had.

"Now!" Bishop commanded.

Closing his eyes, Remy focused on the energy in his body and letting it flow through and out of his hand. This was an easy process for playing cards, but for a living being, it took much more concentration and effort on his part.

The kinetic energy cascaded through Bishop's body, sending sharp and powerful waves throughout his body. Never before had Bishop absorbed this type of energy, and for a moment, he considered that he had made a fatal mistake. Darkness loomed at the edges of his eyes, and Bishop found himself fighting unconsciousness.

But slowly, his body adjusted, transformed the energy into a useable form, and without much effort, Bishop released an energy wave that later would be described as being felt in a five-

mile radius. The first pulse was harmful, but the aftershock was completely devastating in the immediate area.

Seconds before Bishop released his stored energy, Ororo drew in close to Bishop, and extending her hands out to her sides, created a whirlwind of air around them. When the building collapsed inward, Ororo strengthened it to repel all debris. Taking much more effort than she first thought, she lifted the three of them out of the collapsing building until they were looking down on the wreckage fifty feet overhead.

It took everything she had to use enough finesse to keep Bishop and Remy from being tossed about by the shifting wind currents. To them, it was transparent, almost as if they were floating in the air.

Ororo carefully lowered them to the ground. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she released her control over the elements, feeling a wave of fatigue pass through her. Still she stayed on her feet, more concerned about Remy.

He weakly gazed at her and smiled. "Stormy—"

"Save your strength, Remy."

A wave of his hand dismissed her request. "Remy didn't mean to hurt the school. Or you." Before he could continue on, the poison took its toll and Remy fell unconscious.

Bishop and Ororo knew that this had only bought them some time. The Horsemen would not be undone so easily. And soon, they would be battling the Horsemen on their own turf. And next time, there would be some that wouldn't walk away from the fight.

II.

The cold lab table tugged Jean Grey from her unconscious slumber, dragging her from the darkness into a harsh light. Refusing to open her eyes, Jean replayed the last thing she remembered through her mind over and over.

Logan's charred body. Scott's determined expression. The optic blast directly to her midsection.

The scene played over and over again, and every time, Jean realized that a different action could have altered the outcome entirely. Yet, her choice to save Scott had brought her here, wherever here was.

Instinctively, she attempted to reach out telepathically, but her mind was heavily fogged, preventing her from concentrating enough to send out even a weak telepathic distress call. Something was wrong.

Opening her eyes slightly, she saw the syringes lined up perfectly to the right side of the table. _Power-damping drugs,_ Jean immediately concluded. Lifting her head slightly, she saw two other tables across from her. Bobby Drake was strapped to one, and a young man she didn't know was strapped to the other. They appeared to still be unconscious.

_I wasn't the only target. But who did this? Where are we? Where is Scott?_ Jean scrambled for answers, but none immediately came to mind.

Jean's main concern now was that she was helpless and in the clutches of a potential monster. And she could only guess at her chances of survival. But Jean wouldn't go down so easily. People like their captor always made a mistake, and it was up to her to last long enough to exploit that mistake.

She quietly tested the strength of the straps that held her wrists, ankles, and waist to the table, not surprised that they were thick and strong enough to keep someone like the Hulk imprisoned.

Jean let an audible, almost comical, moan escape. Moving her head back and forth slowly, Jean pretended as though she was awakening from her unconsciousness. _Good thing I had all those drama classes_, Jean thought as she continued her performance.

"Ah," a cold, metallic voice suddenly pierced through the silence, "You're awake. I have been waiting a long time to get a hold of you, Ms. Grey."

Jean instinctively attempted a light mind scan to identify her captor, but was met with a sharp spike of pain in her skull and a lingering fog. As the figure came into view, Jean searched for some kind of recognition, but she couldn't concentrate enough to recall anything from personal experience or Cerebro's database.

It was obvious to Jean that he was the one responsible for their kidnapping and drugging, but he didn't look the part. Most of the time, the mastermind behind this kind of scheme was an ordinary-looking, meek scientist, too flimsy and frail to do his own dirty work. But this guy was the complete opposite of that.

A tall, muscle-bound thug is what first came to Jean's mind. He looked as though he should have been the one kidnapping her, with his dark features, tattoos, and goatee. He was in a muscle t-shirt, cargo khakis, and work boots with a shoulder holster and a 9mm tucked into it. But the thing that set him apart from a hired hand were his deep crimson eyes, betraying his utterly evil intent.

"Who are you? And what do you want with us?" Jean's voice held bravado that she didn't really feel. Jean felt vulnerable, isolated, and weak, something that she wasn't quite used to. One wrong move and she could be in serious trouble. And she didn't even want to think of what would happen to Bobby and Josh.

"I apologize. Being in this lab and dealing with my personnel makes me forget how to be cordial to guests. I'm Dr. Nathaniel Essex."

Something suddenly clicked. "You—you're Mr. Sinister," Jean gasped. She wasn't sure where it came from or how she knew, but the look on Sinister's face confirmed that she was right.

"Interesting. I thought I had dampened your mutant abilities. But maybe…" he trailed off, obviously lost in thought. "I shouldn't have underestimated an Omega-level mutant."

Jean knew that she had already made a mistake. But if she could get him talking, maybe there was a chance he would forget her slip-up. "What're you talking about?" she asked, maintaining her tough expression.

"Omega-level mutant. Homo supreme. Homo superior. Homo sapiens novus. Class five mutant. No matter the terminology, it all stems from the idea of a mutant with vast powers, greater than the _normal_ mutant. Unlimited energy and matter manipulation, existence as pure energy, awareness on a cosmic scale—these are just a few examples of what grants a mutant the classification of an Omega-level mutant. Of all mutants, they are the most powerful and strongest—the next evolution in mutants. You, Ms. Grey, are one of those."

Dramatics forgotten, Jean gasped reflexively, genuinely surprised at the idea.

Sinister came closer to Jean, stroking her cheek. "You act surprised, but you have been touched by the ancient Phoenix, haven't you?"

Jean grimaced internally underneath his frigid touch, but she wouldn't give Sinister the satisfaction of flinching. Instead, she locked eyes with him, the fire of resistance and determination burning deep in her emerald eyes.

A corner of his mouth curled in a perversely then he turned away, returning to the side of the room Jean couldn't see.

She wondered exactly how he knew about the Phoenix. And if he knew about all of the recent events, to include her resurrection and quasi-separation from the Phoenix. Jean noted it as a hip pocket tidbit for later.

Sinister continued, talking loud enough for Jean to clearly hear. "Deep down, you know that you are much more powerful than those around you. And so did the Phoenix, which is why it chose you. You deserve to be on a throne, not only in this world but beyond. And the same goes for Mr. Drake and Foley."

Jean calmed her breathing and attempted to focus again. If she planned on saving Josh and Bobby, she had to try to get herself together, despite the drugs. She did all this surreptitiously, hoping that Sinister didn't have some way of detecting what she was doing.

Continuing to explain, Sinister said, "Foley, an interesting mutant who could in time construct an entire human from a single cell, altering DNA strands as he went along, manipulating the very essence of what makes us who we are. Robert Drake, could control every water molecule in existence…at the same time, drawing the water out of every bit of matter, reutilizing it as he saw fit."

She saw Bobby and Josh stir then awaken. Jean immediately caught Bobby's eye, and even without her telepathy, she was able to wordlessly communicate with him to stay still. He nodded in understanding and somehow passed the same info to Josh. All of this somehow went unnoticed by Sinister, Jean assumed since she couldn't actually see him.

"Mutants are limited by their own ignorance, physiology, and lack of ambition. Most won't reach their full potential, but even for those that do, there's only so far they can go. But you, for example, are limitless, there's no glass ceiling that you'll reach with your powers."

Jean shuddered, remembering the waves of energy, tearing matter and soldiers apart without any effort at all. Refusing to tumble into his trap, Jean remained focused on trumping the effects of the drugs.

"Alcatraz was a mistake. I didn't know how to control my powers. But control is a part of our responsibility as mutants."

"Spoken like a true student of Xavier. You are right about that. We should control those that are beneath us. That is the responsibility of a stronger species."

"Don't twist my words. You sound like Magneto."

"Magneto has the right idea. But he doesn't have the backup to bring his plans to fruition or the power within himself to singlehandedly stage such a takeover."

"And you do?" Jean quipped.

"No. You do. And Drake. And Foley. There's whole list of Omega-level mutants that I plan to have at my side."

"But you're not the one behind this, are you? Who are you _supposed_ to be working for? Or maybe I should be ask who you're working against."

"I'm always taken by your sheer beauty, often overlooking your high level of intelligence. You are a doctor after all. That information will become clear to you in time. I trust that your teammates have adequately pieced together the puzzle, which points them right at 

Apocalypse. With LeBeau out of the way, my role is practically invisible, giving me time to launch my own scheme."

"I don't understand. How is it that you know so much about mutants—about us?"

"Ms. Grey," Sinister chuckled to himself, seemingly amused at the question, "I've been studying mutants since the nineteenth century."

Notes:

DiamondKing12: Thank you for the compliment. I'm definitely glad you're enjoying the story so far. I think this would make an awesome movie too!

Ratdogtwo: You left a brief review, but I'm glad nonetheless. You've been on board since the Generation X story, so I'm glad you're still on board for this one too.

1992WhitePhoenixOfTheCrown: Thanks for the praise. Let me know what you think of this chapter as well.

Darkest Star17: Yep, that's his real name. It is kind of a let down considering it's been a mystery for decades, but hey, what can you do? I think I like the idea of having a sexy story. Thanks for the kind words. I think there is a little spark between Ororo and Logan, but I don't know if it's going to turn into a bonfire. But we shall see.

BlackIceAngel: I've never been a fan of the Scott/Jean/Logan triangle. It completely gets on my nerves, but it's a crucial element to the development of these three characters, so it kind of makes sense. Though just like in the comic, I kind of gave the triangle a conclusion. Everything happened so fast that Jean only thought of holding the building up and saving the rest of the student body and faculty. Her own safety was secondary to that. But you are right, I did need her to be captured, so hopefully, that portion wasn't too corny where people will come up with a thousand alternates that Jean could have taken. They will just accept that Jean was concerned for others, made a mistake, and got caught. Same with Logan. But you do have a good point, and I wrestled over several alternatives before settling with what was in the story. And hopefully, this Gambit is meeting all of your expectations.

The Odd Little Turtle: I'm always glad when I get a new reader. Thanks for the feedback on the chapters. After you mentioned it, I did realize I was a little skimpy on the Colossus action. But I think that he'll get some more playing time in the upcoming chapters.


	18. Chapter 18

I.

"How is he, Hank?" Charles Xavier asked as the doctor silently read the monitors linked to state-of-the-art medical equipment, which was connected to the young man named Doug Ramsey.

Hank absently read over the readouts as his mind really focused on the run-down of what happened in Egypt from Moira (with plenty of interruptions from Jaime Madrox) as they carefully transported Doug from the X-Jet to the medical bay in the Mansion.

The story bothered Hank in several ways, but the most obvious being the fact that no trace of Warren had been found at all. He had simply vanished. But then, after seeing a grotesquely transformed Warren looming over the mutilated bodies of the Morlocks through Jean's psi-link, Hank knew that Warren was involved with this young man's condition and the deaths of the rest of the excavation team.

He likened the situation to Jean's replacement by the Phoenix, but somehow, this went beyond just a mere replacement. It was as if his DNA had been merged with something else. Something powerful enough to reshape and transform mutants into its own likeness.

Hank wondered what Doug endured and how he happened to survive given the ruthless nature of his attackers. But all he could do at this point is be thankful that there was at least one survivor, and maybe he had some piece of information that would enlighten them about their enemy.

If he ever woke up.

Hank mumbled to himself as he annotated the readings on Doug's chart. "Professor!" Hank tried to pretend he wasn't startled, having been so engrossed in the medical readings that he had shut out the world around him. He grinned sheepishly then said, "His readings are stable, and his injuries are minor. But I think he's in psychological shock, and there's no telling when he'll wake up."

Doug sat straight up in the bed and screamed.

"My stars and garters," Hank dropped the chart and immediately tended to Doug, grabbing his shoulders and trying to ease his fears.

Eyes wide, staring out into nothing, Doug was overwhelmed with confusion, which quickly escalated into panic. "Wh—what happened? Who are—you? Why am I here? Where's the rest of the team?" he stammered. He immediately lurched forward to leap from the bed, but a wave of dizziness overtook him, and he nearly fell to the floor. A timely catch from Hank stopped his fall, but once Doug's eyes locked onto Hank, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Calm down, son," Hank pleaded as he struggled with Doug.

"Let—me—go! You monsters have done enough!"

Charles closed his eyes and reached out to Doug, speaking directly in his mind. _"The man holding you is a doctor, and he has been treating you for your injuries. He's not a monster, and he will not hurt you. Please, settle down, and allow me to explain what happened."_

Doug stopped, completely perplexed at the fact that he couldn't hear the voice with his ears. It was like an internal voice in his mind talking to him and only him. But how? Weakened by his outburst and struggling against Hank, Doug submitted and let Hank lay him back on the bed.

"What's going on? What happened?" Doug weakly asked. He blinked back stinging tears, fearful not of what was going on around him, but what he couldn't remember.

"Let's start with the basics, Doug," Charles now spoke to him aloud. He closed the gap, 

wheeling next to the bed, careful not to crowd Hank as he continued to take readings. "I'm Professor Charles Xavier. You're in New York—Westchester County to be exact. Warren Worthington Jr. requested an investigation of the site in Egypt, and that's where my colleagues found you."

Doug looked at him peculiarly. "You knew Warren, didn't you? You people—you're the X-Men."

"An astute deduction," Charles complimented with a smile. "Now, maybe you can tell us what happened in Egypt."

Doug shook his head and clenched his eyes closed. "Everything happened so fast. I—I can't remember. I don't know. Everything after Lorna went into the pyramid is gone." Doug felt panic rising again. "Why can't I remember? Where's everyone else? What happened?"

"Relax," Charles whispered while pushing the notion of tranquility into Doug's mind, helping him to calm down.

Doug nodded as his tense expression melted away.

"As I've told my students, the mind is a fragile thing. I am a mutant with the ability to read minds. If you'll allow me, I can help you remember what your conscious mind has forgotten. But you're going to have to help. If we push to hard, we can run the risk of possibly erasing your memories. Permanently."

Doug nodded, acquiescing to the request. "I know the risks—I'm friends with a psychic, Betsy Braddock. She's told me all the ins and outs of the mind time and time again. But I can't sit here and not know."

"I'm going to do something, but I need you to close your eyes and try to remember what you saw. It's going to be painful, but we have to know who did this. Can you do that, Doug?"

He nodded, not sure why he trusted this man. But there was something about his fatherly demeanor and soothing voice that set him at ease. And before Doug knew it, he remembered the entire scene like it was yesterday. Charles linked himself and the others to Doug's mind. In a surreal fashion, they experienced his memories from his eyes.

_"Lorna! Hector! Come in!" Doug shouted into the radio. Annoyed, Doug slammed the radio back into its charger, cursing Worthington Labs for not providing enough communications equipment to keep them in touch._

_Doug ran his fingers through his already disheveled blond hair, his overactive imagination already kicking in, seeing a massive cave-in, a crumbling floor, or a bobby trapped room swallowing Lorna and her crew up. Shaking off the visions with a chuckle, Doug assured himself that they were fine and that they would have radio contact with him any second._

_A high-pitched grating shriek of static from the radio made Doug jump. _

_For only a moment, Doug's nervous hands fumbled over the radio, but he clamed himself before pressing the talk button. "Lorna, this is HQ. Come in."_

_More static. But there was something in the static that Doug suddenly picked up on. He brought the radio closer to his ear and heard a faint tapping. Wait! It was Morse code. Someone was tapping something out on Morse code!_

_Doug listened to the timing between the taps, his keen mind immediately translating the message. Then his body went cold._

_Run away. We're coming._

_The message was short and cryptic, yet Doug knew that none of the four members of that team would send such a message if there wasn't something to be afraid of. He listened again, but the taps had stopped. Only static remained._

_Doug slowly pressed the talk button again, and brought it closer to his mouth. "Lorna, are you there?" he whispered. The static stopped, leaving behind a profound silence that seemed much louder. But he sensed that something was there on the other end, listening. "Hello?" he meekly offered._

_A scream tore from the radio, and Doug reflexively threw the radio across the room, his heart pounding against his ribs, his breathing ragged. He stared at the radio, face-down in the sand, the scream dying away to a moan then a cackle. Then, there was nothing._

_Doug couldn't stop all of the horrible images from going through his mind. He felt weak and confused, overwhelmed by the dreadful feeling that they had been seriously hurt. No, killed. And whatever it was had its sights set on the rest of the encampment._

_Run away. We're coming._

_The words echoed through his mind again, but this time, it snapped Doug back into reality._

_Doug threw his backpack on his shoulders and bolted from the tent, nearly colliding with several other workers, eliciting curses. But Doug didn't care. He had to tell someone—warn them that they were in immediate danger. But deep down, Doug knew that it was already too late._

_Bursting into a much larger tent, his eyes scanned the workers shuffling around until he spotted Zack Quinn, the co-director of the dig. Zack was a no-nonsense, older gentlemen, weathered by many years of working with Worthington Labs. Convincing him would be hard, but he's the only one that could make the call to clear the site._

_Doug weaved his way toward Zack then slammed his hands on his desk, causing Zack to look up at him with a perturbed glare._

_"What the hell are you doing, Ramsey?"_

_"There's no time," Doug couldn't catch his breath. "Lorna. I lost contact with her. There's something—we've got to get out of here! Something's in that pyramid."_

_Zack leaned forward his annoyance growing. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're not making any damn sense. What happened to Lorna?"_

_Doug slammed his hands on the desk again. "Listen to me!" he shouted, garnering the attention of everyone in the tent. "There's something dangerous in that pyramid, we need to—" Doug stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by a blood-curdling scream._

_The two men locked eyes momentarily, sharing the same feeling of dread before leaping into action. Zack dashed out of the tent telling the others to stay there, while Doug stayed close on his heels. And what they saw when they came out nearly stopped their hearts._

_A winged creature—no, winged human?—tore through the crowd, its metal wings slicing through people with ease. It flew low then veered high into the air, laughing. Another flying demon—she looked just like Lorna—flew through the crowd touching people. Only moments later, they would double over and begin to spew vomit—then crimson blood until they fell to the ground, dead. A figure completely covered in flames cackled maniacally as he directed those flames, roasting anyone within twenty feet of him. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as his rampage continued. And the final demon, the sun glinting off his milky white skin, was much less graceful than the others, content to tear people apart limb-by-limb, letting the blood spray all over him before moving on to the next victim._

_"Oh my god," Zack mumbled. He felt like he was watching a gory horror movie, a spectator to what nightmares are made of. Until a line of metal feathers suddenly appeared in various places in his midsection._

_Everything happened so fast that Doug didn't even notice Zack's injury until he fell over. "Mr. Quinn!"Doug stooped next to the man, cradling him in his arms. The wounds were beginning to fizz, a sign that the metal shards were poisoned._

_"Get the hell out of here," the director croaked. "Go!" he pushed Doug away._

_Blinking back hot tears, fear gripped him and Doug found himself paralyzed, unsure of what to do next._

_Doug glanced up and saw the winged figure hovering, eying him with deadly intent. He took an unsteady step back, waiting for the sharp wings to rain a barrage of sharp, metallic feathers on him, like what had happened to countless others. For a moment, they locked eyes, then Doug felt his blood run cold._

_The figure standing before him wasn't just a winged demon. It was Warren Worthington III, the X-Man that went with Lorna into the pyramid. Four of them. Four demons. What had happened to them? Doug's mouth was dry and though he tried to speak, nothing came out._

_For a fleeting second, Doug thought that Warren's eyes were pleading for help._

_But Warren swooped down and spun gracefully, hitting Doug with the broad side of his left wing. Doug's body flew back through another, unoccupied tent, crashing into the pole holding it up with enough force to break it in half. The tent and other poles collapsed around him. _

_Then everything went dark._

Charles broke the link and opened his eyes to find tears streaming down Doug's face.

"They're all dead," he mumbled, his voice low and melancholic. "Everyone. They killed them. Everyone except me. Why?"

Charles placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "They knew that you would find the people that could help them."

Doug said, "That pyramid did something to them. There's something dangerous in there, and it's not human."

"I've summoned the headmistress of this school, Ororo Munroe. She has had her own experience with the same enemies you have. We're trying to piece together what we've all found to see if we can create a somewhat full picture of what we're dealing with."

As if on cue, Ororo strode into the room, making Doug forget momentarily about everything else. She was by far the most beautiful woman that he had seen. Slightly taller than average, shimmering white hair, amazing blue eyes, cocoa complexion, and exotic features—the purpose in her stride demanded respect and the aura she gave off told of a strong queen and a warrior at heart.

"Professor," Ororo placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed as if to say, _we're on the same team, and I forgive you_. She gave Hank a knowing nod as well, letting him know she was okay. Hank gave the slightest nod and smile in return, as Ororo pulled a chair up next to the Professor.

Charles didn't realize how much the tension between him and Ororo wore on him until it was gone. He felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart.

"You must be Douglas Ramsey," Ororo extended her hand. "My name is Ororo Munroe. This is the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters." They shook, Ororo taking special care to be gentle yet firm.

Ororo took a moment to study the young man sitting upright lying on the bed. She saw him as only a few years older than Michael, yet still inexperienced. And now, he had been drawn into something that was bigger than all of them. It didn't seem fair, but that's where they 

came in—to tip the scales in the favor of those that couldn't fight back.

"You're friends of Warren then," Doug stated more than asked.

"Yes, we are. And we are well-aware of his disappearance in Egypt. I have also seen Warren and know that our ally could very well be a deadly enemy."

Doug shifted nervously. "Are you going to kill him, the way he killed everyone at the site?"

Ororo shook her head. "Retribution and vengeance is not the way of the X-Men, Douglas. Neither Warren nor the rest are in full control of their actions. They have been enthralled by some enemy, of whom you may be able to assist us in finding."

"I'll tell you what I know, and I'll help however I can."

Ororo gave Doug a reassuring smile. "Let's go back—why were you investigating that site in particular?"

Doug cleared his throat. "Our team has been investigating mutant abilities for some time, tracing the appearance of mutated DNA back through time. We're trying to figure out the origin of mutant powers and trace their development. Looking back through time, mutant powers themselves have evolved, becoming more and more common in modern society and exponentially more dangerous."

Ororo nodded, finding the notion of anthropologic-based research fascinating.

"There are people out there that think mutant powers are really some kind of government conspiracy gone wrong. Others think that in some point in history, something biologically went haywire, spawning humans with extraordinary abilities. And that's what we're looking for."

"The exact point in history where mutant abilities first showed up," Charles clarified.

Doug nodded in agreement. "Anyways, I think one of the bigwigs in Worthington got some convincing evidence of a fabled first mutant, a mutant entombed in Egypt. The plan was to excavate the area and bring the body back to the lab for examination and study. But when we got there, we found that strange pyramid. After one of our first tours into the pyramid, we found a set of scrolls. One of them said that the time has come for the ascension of the gods. Only those fit to survive will remain and all kingdoms shall belong to and be ruled by the first one. Actually, they were having trouble deciphering it, but once I got it, I could understand it instantly. "

"Really?" Ororo said.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, that's my thing—I can instantly understand languages both written and spoken. Somehow it just makes sense to me. I can also decipher codes and computer languages. That's why I was hired onto Worthington Labs."

"An active psionic ability to translate and decipher codes. A fascinating mutant ability," Hank marveled.

He shrugged. "I really don't consider myself a mutant. Other people can blast holes in walls or fly, but all I can do is translate stuff. You guys can save lives with your powers, but there's nothing I can do."

"Saving lives doesn't always occur on the front lines, my friend," Hank said.

Continuing his explanation, Doug said, "I told Lorna and Zack about what I found, but they were more determined than ever to find the body of the first mutant. Now that I think about it, it was about that time that we started having trouble with our communications systems. We weren't able to link back to the main lab or anyone else for that matter. We were stranded out there, but they decided to continue the project."

"That would be why we received a call from Mr. Worthington," Ororo added.

Charles came to his own conclusions and said, "Soon thereafter, Warren and a team of archeologists must have entered the tomb and somehow confronted Apocalypse."

"Wait. Apocalypse is a person?" Doug asked.

"I'm afraid so. Born five thousand years ago, Apocalypse has been on his own Darwinian quest, deeming himself as the authority to decide the weak from the strong. Through the years, he has also had ties with Dr. Nathaniel Essex," explained Charles.

"Mr. Sinister, the one Detective Bishop is tracking," Ororo realized.

Charles nodded, feeling that the pieces were finally falling into place. "He must have been in some type of hibernation when the excavation team found him. Now awakened, Apocalypse will continue on his quest for the strong to rule over the weak."

"Well, you can stop him, right?" Doug asked.

Charles regretfully shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know. All records that I have of Apocalypse indicate that he may very well be immortal."

"How do you stop someone that can't die?"

"I wish I could answer that…"

II.

Kitty Pryde wasn't accustomed to knocking on doors. More times than not, she simply used her power to phase through to the other side, sometimes catching glimpses of things that weren't necessarily meant for her to see.

Now, as Kitty lingered in front of a door, she had to make a conscious effort to keep herself solidified as her fist lightly rapped on the oak door. Despite her newfound respect for people's privacy, her patience hadn't matured at the same rate, so she found herself quickly knocking again.

"Rogue, it's Kitty. Are you in there?" Kitty called through the door.

She knocked again, for the sake of being polite. Kitty let the knock linger, hoping to hear the shuffling of feet coming to open the door. But a minute passed, and she heard nothing.

"I'm coming in," Kitty announced before sucking in a quick breath and phasing though the door. Entering Rogue's room, Kitty found that books were strewn about, apparently thrown on the floor, and the covers to her bed had been ripped off. Rogue sat in the middle of her bed, tucked into herself.

"What do ya want?" she croaked, voiced cracked and hoarse from crying. She cast Kitty a look of annoyance, not trying to hide her red, puffy eyes.

Kitty felt a mix of emotions at once—pity, because Rogue was obviously in a state of despair; a flash of anger, because Rogue had just rudely snapped at her when she was obviously concerned for Rogue's well-being; and sadness, because she knew that it was because of Bobby's kidnapping that Rogue was like this. And deep down, Kitty felt ten-times worse.

Though feeling her face grow hot, Kitty replied with a steady, neutral voice. "Everyone's worried about you, so I figured I'd check on—"

"Ah don't need ya ta check on me."

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, and suddenly, Kitty thought that this was a bad idea. But she had gone too far now, and she couldn't just walk away.

"Look ever since Bobby—"

"Ah don't need ya ta remind me, either. Ah know what happened. Remember, Ah was the one that let him slip through mah fingers." Rogue snorted cynically, "Ah know what this 

is—everybody thinks Ah'm weak and couldn't save Bobby."

"That's not true," Kitty replied, much more stiffly than she meant to. "You're being dumb. We were caught off guard. It wasn't any one person's fault."

Rogue shook her head. "How can ya be so damn calm?! Who knows what's happenin' ta them? Some lunatic is probably brainwashin' them and torturin' them. And all we're doin' is sittin' here, waitin'."

Kitty stepped forward, feeling her temper flaring. "Do you really think that we're resting on our laurels when people we care about are in the hands of some crazed mutant? Is that what you really think?"

Stunned, Rogue's tearful eyes met with Kitty's, and almost immediately, Kitty realized she had said too much.

"Rogue, I didn't mean—"

The girl shook her head, interrupting Kitty's apology. Her voice a whisper, Rogue replied, "Nah. Maybe that's jus' what Ah needed ta hear." Rogue tore her eyes away from Kitty, suddenly interested in something near her feet. "Ah broke up with Bobby because Ah knew our time was over. Ah saw the way he looked at ya—the way he _touched_ ya. And the kiss—it tore my heart right outta mah chest."

Rogue shook her head, realizing that she was practically reading her diary out loud to the one person that she shouldn't have been talking to. But Rogue knew she wouldn't be able to move on without letting it all go.

Kitty, on the other hand, felt that Rogue was simply asking for something that she couldn't give. She couldn't give Rogue back Bobby's heart. She couldn't take back the kiss from that night. She couldn't give Rogue the sly glances Bobby handed out regularly. Right now, all Kitty could do is be an X-Man and save those she cared about. And she thought Rogue should do the same.

"Look, I never meant to come in between you and Bobby. But at this point, it really doesn't matter. When the Blackbird is taking off to kick the bad guy's ass and get Bobby back, you can bet I'll be on that plane. And you had better be right there next to me."

With that, Kitty left Rogue, this time going _through_ the door.

III.

"Your failure will not go unnoted, Death," Sinister said, not even giving Warren the respect of a disapproving glance. The screen Sinister intently studied contained too much information to make sense of for the greater part of the population, but to him, it was a matrix of genetic possibilities, generated from the data had had collected from the three Omega-level mutants.

Technology readily at his disposal, Sinister had watched the entire sequence of events using a remote protocol to tap into the surveillance system the N.Y.P.D. had installed in the building. Though not surprised that the fabled X-Men had soundly defeated them, Sinister was no less annoyed that Remy had once again slipped into the shadows like the thief he was.

The foursome strode into the laboratory, no signs of having just had a building brought down all around them. But anger brimmed beneath their expressionless faces as the word _failure_ seemed to echo all around them.

Warren narrowed his milky eyes. "Gambit is _your_ problem, not ours. He is but a gnat to Lord Apocalypse, whom we serve. Make sure that you do not forget that, Sinister."

Sinister leaned back in his chair, obviously amused by Warren's response as Sinister turned to face him. "You're a loyal pet, I'll give you that. But you're also a fool. Once Apocalypse is finished with you, he'll throw you away."

"Stifle your heretical words," Lorna snapped. With anger etched across her face, she continued, "Do you not serve Apocalypse as well? Or maybe you're a Judas, plotting right under our lord's nose to be his undoing."

Sinister let a sly grin cross his face. "Such carelessness with your words could lead to an unfortunate accident."

Warren retaliated, "Our lord puts too much trust in you, Sinister. But unlike him, I can taste your treacherous heart. Make a move against Apocalypse, and I'll make sure to finish you myself."

Caliban smashed a fist into one of the larger metal cabinets, leaving behind a sizeable dent where no ordinary man would have made the slightest scratch. The sound of flesh on metal was Caliban's support of their informal leader.

Though the tension in the air was thick, Sinister wasn't intimidated in the least. In the end, they were nothing but playthings for Apocalypse, mutants given a false sense of being more powerful, ruthless, and important than they really were. In reality, they were but marionettes, hanging by one last string. Sinister wondered who would be the one to cut it.

To Warren, Sinister said, "Do not forget, Warren Worthington, that you didn't always serve Apocalypse. You are but one of many disposable Horsemen." Sensing the shift of Warren's attitude, the corner of Sinister's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Oh? You didn't think that you were special, did you? None of you are. When you fall, another foolish mutant will unwillingly take your place."

"Enough!" Lorna interjected, her loathe for Sinister shining through. "The air you breathe is tainted with lies. Your words are no different."

"Believe what you want, Horsemen. You will see for yourselves," said Sinister. With a haughty smirk, he returned to the screen, once again engrossing himself in the complex world of genetics and biology.

Warren found himself wishing that Sinister didn't work for Apocalypse, so he could take the vain scientist and torture him before killing him mercilessly. "Horsemen," Warren commanded, "Lord Apocalypse has summoned us. We must go to him."

"Do not believe his words. We know that he is nothing but a jealous dog," Shiro said loud enough for Sinister to hear.

Warren's face was locked in an expression of hatred and anger as he flew away. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the seed of doubt had been planted. Why couldn't he remember anything before the past few days? Why did visions of another life keep haunting him? Why did he feel as if there was something else he should be doing?

He kept his feelings to himself, as any Horseman of Apocalypse would. His duty was to serve Apocalypse, and that left no room for anything else.

IV.

The War Room, located in the sub-basement of the mansion, was lined with the most high-tech machinery, ranging from tracking systems, mini-supercomputers, and console-to-ceiling monitors. Mission planning and briefings took place here, usually with Scott Summers standing at the head of the table, passing out the plan step-by-step to his selected team.

But now, Sean and Ororo accompanied Charles at the table, as a holographic, three-dimensional image of the city rotated in the middle.

"There was a sudden surge of energy in this location, but it was slight and disappeared too quickly to make out exactly what it was. Given the circumstances we're currently in, we cannot afford to ignore even the smallest of anomalies."

"Do ye think it could be a goose chase though, Charles?"

"I cannot be sure of that. There have been some preliminary reports of strange sightings, but nothing substantial. We don't know enough about Apocalypse, his motives, or his Horsemen to simply overlook this situation."

Ororo said to Charles, "Professor, you said there were two things that you wanted to address."

"Correct. While using Cerebro, I was able to detect Jean's thought patterns. It was slight, almost non-existent, but it was there. Along with Scott's. I've been able to pinpoint a location, which is," Charles shifted the holographic image to a facility on the outskirts of the city, "right here. There's no doubt that Sinister is holding them here. But the place is heavily fortified against psychic probes, so I cannot discern if there are others with Sinister."

"However, we can be assured that Sinister is protected by the Marauders or possibly the Horsemen," she countered.

"Precisely. I would like for the two of you to take your respective teams to these locations. Sean, I want your team to rescue Jean, Bobby, and Josh from the facility. Ororo, take a team to investigate the anomaly within the city. The both of you should use the utmost caution. At this time, we don't know the full range of Sinister's or Apocalypse's intentions or abilities."

Only fifteen minutes later, two aircraft departed from the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, each team ready to accomplish its individual objectives, while also knowing the main fight was still looming on the horizon.

V.

Tom Corsi wiped sweat off his brow then took a step back, admiring the wall replacement he had just finished. While the two X-Men teams were off on specific missions, Tom headed up the repairs for the mansion. He was fortunate that they had cancelled class today and the students were so eager to help.

Many of them had useful abilities that sped things along: Monet St. Croix with her super strength and flight, Julian Keller with his telekinesis, Jaime Madrox and his multitude of duplicates (which sped up the process quite a bit, though most of them ended up being way too talkative and annoying), Forge with his ability to build anything imaginable, and Everett Thomas who can do all those things with his mutant synching ability.

Those that didn't have powers that could directly contribute to the repairs helped as best they could, hammering and painting whatever Tom asked them to.

While the students and faculty worked upstairs, Moira MacTaggert occupied herself in the sub-basement of the mansion, making modifications to the uniforms per information from Reed Richards. Luckily, she was able to take care the two team's uniforms before they left, enhancing the uniform's durability, temperature control, and molecular adaptability according to its wearer.

The uniforms were a work of art, in her opinion.

She opted to remain at the mansion with her team of Jaime Madrox, Forge, and David 

Haller, only after Charles insisted that they stay until the situation with Apocalypse had been resolved. So she kept in touch with Irene Adler to ensure day-to-day operations continued at the lab while she was away.

"I figured I'd find you down here," Charles smiled warmly as he wheeled into the room.

"I'm makin' some wee adjustments t' the uniforms. Reed Richards sent me the program and materials for some improvements. Given everythin' that's goin' on, y'r X-Men are going to need it. How're the rest o' the students?"

"They are a little shaken up, but understandably so. Still, I have to say that the older students are really helping with them. Monet, Sam, and Dani have been extremely helpful in that respect. Tom's idea of employing the students to assist with the repairs has helped ease their trepidation. They seem to be enjoying themselves."

"And the lad?"

"Doug's resting now. Given what happened, he is doing fairly well. I was able to see the events that occurred at the site through his eyes. Four Horsemen, mutants transformed by Apocalypse that are at his disposal, were the cause of the deaths and destruction there."

"And Warren is one o' them?" Moira asked, unable to hold back her own surprise and horror.

"I'm afraid so. From what I could tell, their DNA has been altered, which has given them enhanced abilities and changed their physical appearance."

"Rewriting DNA? Charles, how could someone do that in such a short amount o' time? And what is this Apocalypse planning ta do?"

Charles' expression went grim. "He's creating an army of the strongest mutants, killing and enslaving those deemed weak. From what I can discern, he's trying to establish his own rule over the world. The Horsemen were responsible for the Mutant Massacre, from the information I received from Ororo. They've also been at other locations where mutants were mysteriously and brutally murdered. Apocalypse is hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right time to make his move."

"Bobby, Jean, and Josh—Charles, they're Omega-level mutants."

"I've already warned all other Omega-level mutants to stay alert until we resolve this situation. I've also offered them refuge here at the mansion if they so desire. I sent Sean's team in to rescue them. As long as Apocalypse hasn't gotten his hands on them, they can be saved."

"How do ye know that?"

"There's someone else working for Apocalypse. A scientist—Dr. Nathaniel Essex—also known as Mr. Sinister."

"The mad geneticist, known for his brutal, unethical experiments on humans and mutants."

"I believe he is the one directing the actions of the Marauders, at Apocalypse's behest. But I have a feeling he's not as loyal as Apocalypse may think, which is why Apocalypse may not even know that he has possession of the Omega-level mutants."

"So that's why ye moved so quickly."

"Precisely. I can't afford to lose anymore students, Moira. I was fortunate with both Scott and Jean in that they miraculously survived their circumstances. But Warren's been taken, and Jean, Josh, and Bobby are all captives. I can only pray that I acted fast enough."

"I know Sean. He'll get them back, Charles."

"I'm also thankful you and your team weren't hurt in Egypt. How's David?"

"He's doing better these days. But his psychic powers still overwhelm him. Charles, ye 

could put up barriers—"

"No," Charles sternly answered. "I did that with Jean to protect her, but it only ended up opening the door for something worse. At the time, I thought that I was doing what was best for her, given her vast abilities. But I've learned a hard lesson since then, and I refuse to put David in harm's way. Any psychic for that matter. As I've said many times, the mind is a delicate thing and must be handled with care and respect. With Jean, I had forgotten that."

Moira wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but she knew it wouldn't help. Instead, Moira changed the subject. "I spoke to Gabrielle about a month ago. She's doing well, though I can tell keeping David at the laboratory eats her up inside."

"I don't like it anymore than she does," Charles tersely replied. When he saw Moira's expression, he softened a bit. "I apologize. It's not you. I don't want to make the same mistake with David because of Irene's predictions."

"Charles, the lad—"

"I know. We've talked about this before, Moira. Maybe after all this, I'll reevaluate the situation and decide where to go from there. But I have to ensure his safety."

Moira wondered if his sense of responsibility to David was simply that of Professor Charles Xavier or if it was because of his relation to David. She decided to let the topic die, as to not introduce more mixed emotions given the gravity of the current situation. They needed to be focused on the task at hand, but maybe afterward, Moira could talk to Charles much more in depth about David.

Bringing them back to the current situation, she asked, "Apocalypse, eh? Do ye think y'r X-Men are prepared for this?"

A pensive expression settled into Charles' face as he replied, "If the X-Men can't stop Apocalypse then I fear the worst possible fate is in store for the world."

As if struck, Charles suddenly grabs his head, crying out in pain.

Moira leaped to her feet, panic-stricken. "Charles, talk t' me! Are re all right?"

"Dear, God. Apocalypse has made his move."

VI.

"So, can someone explain to me why I'm in the Blackbird, responding to a random blip in the city from Cerebro instead of in the X-Jet going to save Bobby, Dr. Grey, and the new kid?" Kitty Pryde asked. She leaned forward enough in her seat to be a nuisance to Ororo, but stayed far enough back to not be in the way.

Ororo sighed, as though she expected this conversation to erupt. "Kitten, you are being a child. You are too emotionally charged to be effective in battle for Bobby's safety."

"Yeah, she looks pretty charged up to me right now," Michael clarified from behind Kitty.

"Like one of Remy's cards," Remy added as he let energy flow into the card he was holding. With a small _puff_, it disappeared in a mini-explosion.

"And like the card, she is bound to explode," Peter finished.

Hank simply laughed and shook his head, amused by the banter.

"No comments from the three stooges back there," Kitty snapped back. She glared at Michael, Remy, and Hank, but when she got to Peter, she quickly broke the eye contact and snapped her head around. She didn't bother to give Rogue a glance, who sat staring out of the window. _She must be enjoying the show_, Kitty sourly thought.

"I guess I should just feel lucky I'm being treated like an X-Man again," Kitty sourly stated as she crossed her arms and settled back into her seat.

"I don't mean to interject," Bishop intervened.

"Then maybe you shouldn't…" Kitty quipped.

"But you've got a serious attitude problem," Bishop finished, completely ignoring Kitty's rather rude response. "You really think her job is to keep you away from being an X-Man? It's not. She's got the responsibility of not only keeping the normal populace safe from people like Magneto, she's got to keep you safe. And it's not just because you're an X-Man, but because you have families, friends, people back home that expect to see you during your next break. If it pisses you off that people care about you, then you're going to be one unhappy kid."

Kitty felt her emotions flare but was smart enough to realize when someone was telling her something worthwhile. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She got upset at Peter's overprotective nature. She was mad at Ororo for wanting them to be safe, instead of jumping headfirst into trouble. But didn't they know that they are the ones that taught her how to be responsible and safe? They would never know that she could take care of herself until they let go.

Bishop's words lingered, and for now Kitty was fine to let them.

As things calmed in the front of the Blackbird, Remy sat restlessly in the back, glad to have escaped the Horsemen, thanks to Bishop and Ororo, but sure that his pursuers would return when least expected. His eyes studied the cabin, disinterested in most of the high-tech machinery located around the cabin.

Finally, he settled on the young woman staring out of the window, sitting across from Kitty. Remy overheard the name Rogue thrown around, but he figured that was her codename, though everyone used hers more commonly than everyone else's. But there was something about her that piqued Remy's curiosity.

The first thing that caught his eye was the snow white locks framing her face, coupled with dark brown hair trailing down her back. Her green eyes were attractive but thoughtful, as if there was always something heavy on her mind. But her face, though currently pensive, seemed best suited for a smile while basking in the sun, letting the rays caress her soft jaw line and full lips. Further down, her black leather uniform outlined her curvaceous, yet athletic, body quite well, and Remy found himself approving of whoever designed the uniform.

The girl was attractive, Remy had no doubt about that. But her heart was elsewhere, and he decided right then and there that he would have to change that.

Rogue was drawn from her thoughts by the feeling of someone staring at her. Her first thought was Kitty, glaring at her because she hadn't really said anything to Kitty the entire trip. However, when Rogue turned to her peer, Kitty was staring at something outside. Turning slightly in her seat, Rogue immediately locked eyes with Remy.

For a moment, she held the gaze. Then, realizing she was staring right back at him, she blushed and turned quickly back toward the window. Her face felt like it was on fire, and Rogue suddenly needed some air. No one had ever looked at her like she was the most attractive woman on earth, but now, having seen the look in his eyes, Rogue wondered why Bobby had never looked at her like that.

_Because he was looking at Kitty like that_, she told herself. But she had long-since gotten past the point of jealousy, it was simply a fact. But she could still feel her heart ache ever so slightly when she thought of Bobby and wondered if she would ever be able to care about someone the same again.

A scream tore from Bishop's radio, making Rogue's heart jump.

"Ortega, is that you?" Bishop called into the radio. There was an edge to his voice that told everyone something bad was happening.

"Bishop?! Where the hell are you? We thought you were missing. Our temp headquarters was leveled two days ago. We thought you were buried under the rubble."

Bishop hadn't thought of contacting Ortega while he was recuperating at the mansion. He regretted it, but it rapidly changed to concern as he heard screams and chaos in the background. "No, I'm fine. Where are you? What's going on?"

"There's—crazy—monsters flying—killing. No one—"

"Ortega, you're cutting in and out. What the hell's going on?"

But Bishop was answered with nothing but static-ridden silence. Everyone in the aircraft had been listening, and now, they all had their own horrifying picture of the chaos in the city.

"Storm, right?" Bishop asked, testing out the codename. "Any way we can speed this up?"

"Be careful of what you ask, Bishop," Ororo said as she hit the throttle. The Blackbird launched forward, throwing all of the passengers against their seats. Screaming through the air, the Blackbird would have shown up on only the most high-tech of radars, and even then, only as an unidentifiable blip. Later, it would be mistaken for a secret government craft or even a UFO.

In a matter of minutes, the Blackbird approached the outer limits of the city. But as the landscape became clearer, the cause for alarm shot through the roof.

"By the bright lady," Ororo mumbled as she scanned the skyline.

She was used to the fairy tale skyscrapers and towering businesses, but instead, pyramids and mud brick structures now invaded the city. Other limestone, sandstone, and granite constructs were speckled throughout the city as well, obviously having taken the place of the more modern buildings.

"It's something out of a history book," Kitty marveled.

"Apocalypse has made a move into the city," Bishop said with cold certainty.

"Hank, contact the Professor. The situation is much more grave than we originally presumed."

Ororo nodded, still taken by the stark change throughout the city. She quickly set the Blackbird to stealth mode, as they flew into the city limits. "X-Men, we are needed," Ororo declared, leaving no question that she was the leader of the X-Men and that no matter what the threat, they would leave no man, woman, or child unsaved.

VII.

Jean found herself groggy again, pulled awake by a fleeting thought of something—no, someone—familiar. A connection of some kind that was strong, despite Jean's inability to focus mentally. She couldn't use her powers at all, yet this one thought pattern remained intact, almost as if it was meant to be there.

She reluctantly opened her eyes, and above her stood Scott Summers.

He loomed over her carefully, studying her behind his ruby quartz visor. Her striking visage, the curves of her body, the fire red hair—Scott took it all in, positive that this woman was someone that he should know. He could feel a connection to her, yet it disappeared every time he tried to grasp it.

"Scott," Jean's voice was a mere throaty whisper. She automatically reached for him, but 

felt the straps around her wrist keep her from moving any more than an inch towards him.

"Jean?" he replied, unsteadily. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time and didn't know exactly how to react. "Jean," Scott repeated with a little more confidence behind it.

At that moment, Jean felt it. The psychic rapport that they had always shared was suddenly just there. Scott's mind was like an open book to her and hers to his. In but a moment, they shared something infinitely intimate that words could never describe.

"What are you doing, Cyclops?" Alex seethed.

Scott whirled around, startled but keeping it well hidden. "Is there a problem, Alex?" he tersely questioned in reply.

"No," he cast a look of disdain towards Jean. "None at all."

From his standpoint, the redhead seeing to be lying peacefully on the medical table, her features smooth and relaxed. But she was only playing possum—Alex was sure of it. She was plotting to take his older brother, the only family he had left, away from him again. And there was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen.

Scott didn't trust himself to reply. Something was horribly wrong with the entire situation. Why were Jean and Bobby strapped to a table? And why was Alex, who he hadn't seen in years, there too? Where the hell were they?

_"Scott, there's isn't much time,"_ Jean's voice came from somewhere deep within his mind, which should have startled him, but instead, it was reassuring and soothing. Jean continued, _"You're an X-Man. This isn't where you belong."_

Scott realized that it was her face that he had seen when he first woke up. Her emerald eyes, radiant skin, fire-red hair—this was the woman that he loved. So many questions stampeded through his mind, yet all he could do is rest his eyes upon her face.

"Are you listening?" Alex asked.

With uncanny speed and accuracy, Scott fired off multiple optic blasts, managing to break the restraints that held Jean, Bobby, and Josh in a matter of seconds. The restraints broke easily, and much to Alex's surprise, the captured mutants were on their feet, huddled next to Scott.

"What are you doing?!" Alex shouted, a hint of madness in his voice.

Scott shook his head. "What should have been done a long time ago. They don't belong here. _We_ don't belong here." Scott felt the memories of being an X-Man flood back to him within a matter of seconds, courtesy of the psychic link with Jean. He saw his near death accident, and his rescue by Sinister. He owed Sinister, and there was no way he would get out of here without a fight.

_"Can you reach Alex?"_ Scott telepathically asked Jean.

_"No, Sinister's hold on him is too strong. I can still feel him inside of your head too."_

Scott knew he was the only one that could break through to his brother right now. "Alex, I don't want to fight you."

Alex smirked, his face contorted in a menacing expression. "Sinister knew you would betray him. That's why he told me to keep an eye on you. I won't lay a finger on you, Scott. But they will," Alex motioned over his shoulder to Sabretooth, Blockbuster, Toad, Scalphunter, and Harpoon, all with sadistic grins on their faces.

"Capture the X-Men," Alex ordered. "And remember, failure is not an option."

But before anyone could make a move, the ceiling began to reverberate. In an instant, it shattered, raining down debris and covering the entrance of three figures.

"Looks like we're right on time to even up the score," Logan mused as he popped his 

claws. Sean hovered in the air, Emma Frost in her diamond form reflected the light brilliantly, and Jubilee blew a large pink bubble then sucked it back in.

"Have ye come ta y'r senses, Cyclops, or do I need ta repay ye for earlier?" Sean asked over his shoulder.

"I'll buy you a beer. And Logan a pack of Cuban cigars," Scott replied as crimson light flashed from behind his visor. "One last chance, Alex. Stand down."

"A Summers never backs down."

"Agreed," Scott replied as he sent a crimson energy blast in his direction. It sailed right past Alex and hit Blockbuster in the chest. Suddenly, the room was in a state of chaos, a mini-war having broken out filled with energy blasts, sonic screams, and physical assaults.

"Iceman, stay with Foley and take cover," Scott commanded as he gave Logan cover. Scott knew that Bobby's powers had been blocked by Sinister's drugs, but there was no place that they could safely escape to. He only hoped that the Marauders were too distracted to worry with them.

Bobby gave the boy a knowing glance then took off toward the far side of the room.

"You won't escape!" Harpoon yelled as he created energy harpoons from thin air. He mentally hurled the weapons toward Bobby and Josh.

Reacting on pure instinct, Bobby dodged, flipped over a medical table, allowing both of them to dive behind it as a barrage of energy harpoons exploded on the other side. Josh and Bobby both took in gasps of air as another barrage of energy harpoons impaled themselves on the other side.

"This isn't going to hold up much longer," Bobby said more to himself than to Josh. Sure, Bobby was used to this sort of thing, especially after Alcatraz and the rigorous lessons in the Danger Room. But he knew that Josh wasn't. He had to figure something out before one or both of them were seriously injured.

Josh grabbed Bobby's wrist, making skin to skin contact with him. Before Bobby could protest, he felt a warm sensation traveling throughout his body. It was unlike anything he had felt before, as if his entire body suddenly had been rejuvenated and energized.

"What—what was that?" Bobby asked, nearly breathless from the experience as Josh released him.

Another wave of harpoons hit the table, causing the both of them to flinch. Bobby was sure that another wave of harpoons would rip the table apart. And them too.

Josh quickly explained, "The drugs didn't work on me. My body automatically counteracted the agent, and I now know how to heal someone with it in their system."

Bobby could now feel his body temperature dropping as his skin shifted from normal flesh to hardened, organic ice. "Awesome," Bobby grinned as he flexed his icy hands. "I guess it's party time then!" Bobby stood and without much effort at all shot a barrage of ice harpoons back at Harpoon.

Surprised, Harpoon took one of his weapons in hand and twirled it superhumanly fast, created a spinning shield that shattered the ice harpoons on contact. "Is that all you got?"

"Nope," Bobby said as he leaped over the table. In mid-air, he created an ice slide, coating the bottom of his feet with ice as well. He zipped toward Harpoon and was upon the villain in a matter of seconds. Leaping onto him, Bobby lowered the temperature in the immediate area, slowing Harpoon's movements as he pummeled him with well-placed punches.

"Bobby, look out!" Josh yelled as he spied Toad advancing on him.

Bobby heard the warning too late as Toad grabbed him, leaped straight up, and hit Bobby 

against the ceiling. Disoriented, Bobby couldn't concentrate enough to retaliate. Toad cackled as he continually hopped up and down with Bobby in tow, striking him against the ceiling over and over.

Josh stayed low as he dashed toward Jean, who was a few feet behind Scott, helpless due to the power-damping drugs still in her system. Explosions all around, Josh kept his eye on Jean as he ignored everything else going on. If he could just reach her—

"No so fast, Goldilocks," Blockbuster stepped directly in his path and swung at him. Josh jumped back, the wild punch barely missing his face. He could feel his heart beating nearly out of his chest as his mind raced through a way to get around Blockbuster and to Jean. Suddenly, a faint smell of burning brimstone, a tart stench that made Josh's eyes water, filled the air. Then Blockbuster was yelling at someone.

Josh cleared his eyes and saw a demon on Blockbuster's back, covering his eyes with three-fingered hands. The demon playfully laughed as Blockbuster blindly flailed around in a futile attempt to throw him off. Then, they were gone in a puff of smoke, accompanied by a _bamf_ sound.

He watched as they reappeared and disappeared in the same manner multiple times throughout the room, both at floor level and in the air. When they finally stopped teleporting, Blockbuster slumped to the floor as the demon stood over him.

"I am Nightcrawler. Vere do you vish to go?"

Surprised by the German accent, Josh swallowed hard. "I have to get to Dr. Grey."

"Zis is going to feel a little disorienting," Kurt said as he extended his hand to Josh. Josh grasped his hand and in a flash, they were gone. Then they were next to Jean.

An uncontrollable grin came across his face. "That was kinda cool, Nightcrawler," he said as he kneeled next to Jean.

"Kurt!" Jean smiled. "How did you find us?"

"Professor Xavier and Cerebro. Something about ze rapport with you and Cyclops."

She nodded knowingly as Josh wrapped his hand around her wrist, as if she already knew the reason. Almost instantly, Jean felt a warming glow travel throughout her body as she felt the closed off portions of her mind open back up to her.

"Thank you," Jean smiled again as she gave Josh a motherly caress across his face. It was like a million doors in her mind were suddenly opened all at once, and Jean felt whole once again. But her rapport with Scott still wasn't as strong, and Jean realized that Sinister still had a mental hold of Scott. Jean prayed that she could reach Sinister and break the hold before Scott turned against them.

"I vill assist Iceman," Kurt offered. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared. In the next fraction of a second, he appeared next to Bobby who was holding his head, recovering from Toad's assault. The amphibious mutant had discarded Bobby only moments ago, more interested in someone across the room.

Josh asked Jean, "What can I do?"

"Stay with Nightcrawler and Iceman. They will keep you safe from Sinister."

"What are you going to do?"

"Sinister—I've got to find him and break his hold of Scott and Alex." Jean could feel the Josh's apprehension. But there was no time to search for the right words to reassure him. All Jean could do is give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

But that alone seemed to be enough as he smiled in return, a look of resolve set into his face. He nodded then took off back the way he came as Jean turned her attention towards her 

opponent—Toad.

Jean found herself in a standoff with Toad. Again. She stood far enough away to be out of his reach, but too far to physically attack him.

"Haven't we done this dance before?" Toad jeered as he took an advancing hop towards Jean. She backed up only slightly, giving Toad the false feeling she was still scared of him. Complacency got the best of Toad as he stepped closer, dropping his defense and beginning to toy with her. He danced a little jig as he moved ever closer to her.

Jean waited.

Toad leaped.

With a thought, Jean slowed and stopped his aggressive maneuver, leaving him suspended in midair.

"So now I'm supposed to cover your face in me mucus right?" Toad opened his mouth and hurled a wad of greenish slime towards Jean. But it remained suspended in the air only inches in front of Toad.

"I'm not the same as I was back then, Toad," Jean explained as the mucus separated into less than its atom components. Then she hit Toad with a telekinetic strike forceful enough to throw him into a wall, leaving behind a man-sized dent and rendering him unconscious, but gentle enough to not kill him.

Jean had no time to be impressed with her control though as a barrage of bullets flew towards her, courtesy of Scalphunter. With a wave of her hand, Jean stopped the bullets a few feet in front of her.

"You Marauders don't learn, do you?" Jean inquired as she pulled drew various pieces of equipment towards Scalphunter. He couldn't dodge in time as the heavy machinery converged on him, trapping him right in the middle.

On the other side of the room, Sabretooth licked his lips and advanced on Jubilee. He said, "Kids like you don't belong on the battlefield."

Jubilee smiled as she pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. "Like whatever, dude," she responded as globules of fireworks exploded with the force of a small bomb right in Sabretooth's chest. The force threw Sabretooth completely through the wall, as pieces of the ceiling crumbled around him.

"Ya did good, kid," Logan complimented.

"Piece of cake," Jubilee blew the tip of her finger and gave Logan a triumphant wink.

"But it's gonna take more than that to finish him off," Logan warned.

Just then, the rubble shifted slightly. Jubilee looked on in disbelief as Sabretooth burst out of the debris. A feral growl escaped his throat and his wild eyes locked on Jubilee and Logan, fangs and claws bared.

"Uh, like, I must've made him mad," Jubilee's throat tightened. Sabretooth looked like a ferocious animal, made to look human. Jubilee was sure she was face-to-face with a real, live monster.

"I'll take it from here," Logan said as he unsheathed his claws, accompanied by the unmistakable _snikt_ sound.

"Well, runt, you coming to the kid's rescue? Ain't that cute? I'll gut you then show her what a real man does to a girl like her."

Jubilee's mouth fell open in shocked disgust. "You eff-ing creep!" she screamed as her hands balls into fists and began to glow. The glow spread to her entire body then into the floor, where it turned into a destructive wave of explosive light. The wave tore through the floor as it 

sped toward Sabretooth.

Sabretooth leaped into the air at the last minute, but was caught by debris as the light show erupted from the floor like a geyser.

Ignoring the pain, Sabretooth landed right in front of Logan and Jubilee. A strong backhand sent Jubilee sprawling, as Sabretooth then caught Logan with a return swipe, tearing through his uniform into his flesh. Warm blood seeped from the wounds, and Logan could taste the sour and metallic taste in his mouth. Still, the attack only seemed to infuriate Logan than hurt him.

Sabretooth and Logan both fell into a feral like combat stance, circling each other warily with their eyes locked on each other, waiting for the right time to attack.

Then, almost unexpectedly, Logan and Sabretooth launched themselves towards each other, teeth bared and claws high. The fight was reminiscent of two wild animals, battling for dominance through vicious attacks and ferocious growls. Though both were aggressive and fast, Logan had more of an advantage because of his size, resilience, and training.

Though from the outside, Logan's attacks appeared just as wild and feral as Sabretooth's, in reality, they were precise attacks meant simply to wear Sabretooth down gradually. However, he kept the attacks unrelenting and merciless, which in time turned Sabretooth more defensive than offensive.

Until Sabretooth feinted then tore into Logan's side. Logan didn't expect such a move and cursed himself as pain racked his body. More blood seeped onto his uniform and dripped onto the floor, which only excited Sabretooth more. His attacks became even more wild and aggressive, taking advantage of Logan's injury.

Off balance, Logan succumbed to most of the attacks then found himself being lifted off the ground by Sabretooth. "You'll have to thank that broad, Sage. She taught me a thing or two about you X-Men," Sabretooth ran his tongue across his fangs as held Logan close enough to smell his sour breath.

"But ya didn't learn a thing 'bout me," Logan was suddenly alive as he jabbed his claws into Sabretooth's abdomen. The attack surprised him, but it wasn't until Logan twisted his claws and drove them upward did Sabretooth react with a mix of surprise and agony.

Logan's claws pierced upward, underneath his ribcage, and pierced his heart. Sabretooth had always been protected by his adamantium skeleton, but if anyone knew how to hurt him, it would have been Logan.

Sabretooth staggered backwards, dropping Logan in the process, slumped to his knees, then collapsed heavily on the ground.

Jubilee approached from behind, a horrified expression on her face. "Is he—dead?"

"No, darlin'. Storm taught me early on that the X-Men don't kill. Out of respect for that, this scum is still alive. It's going to take a while for his heart to recover though."

Back on the other side of the room, Jean found herself in a short-lived confrontation with Alex. "Your mind is weak," said Jean as she hit him with a low-level psychic attack. Alex grabbed at his head and screamed as a flash of pain erupted from behind his eyes, crippling him momentarily.

With a hard strike to the back of Alex's head, Scott knocked him out. "Guess I'll be buying him a beer too."

Scott could feel a tingling sensation inside of his head. A dense fog seeped into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything, even calling out to Jean. Scott tried desperately to move, but his limbs were non-responsive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw 

Sinister standing next to him, observing Jean with an unhealthy interest.

"Hmm…it seems I underestimated you," Sinister said to Jean.

She expected Sinister to be alarmed and panicking, making some last ditch attempt to win in an act of pure desperation. But he wasn't. Instead, the corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile, and his eyes shone with pure satisfaction.

"They always do. But this will be your last mistake, Sinister," replied Jean.

"Cyclops, take her down," Sinister directed.

Jean could now feel the cloud over of their rapport as Scott moved stiffly, his body unwillingly obeying the direction of Sinister.

"Jean—" Scott stammered as he fired a blast in her direction. Instinctively and without much effort, Jean threw up her hands, deflecting the crimson beam of energy. "I—can't—stop!" Scott walked toward her, unleashing a full energy blast on her, bombarding her with a continuous stream of energy.

Jean held her hands up, immediately remembering the dam at Alkali Lake, as she fended off the attack. Powerful energy cascaded outward in all directions, redirected by Jean's own telekinetic and cosmic energies.

"Scott's energy blasts have enough power to split this planet in half with little effort. How long do you think your telekinesis can hold such power back?" Sinister taunted. He moved away from Scott to the main console where he quickly began to write the data onto a removable device. Then, he turned to watch the show.

Despite his words, Sinister marveled that Jean could use her telekinesis, combined with some energy that he could feel but not recognize, to effectively shield herself from an energy-based attack, especially since telekinesis should only be effective against tangible matter.

_"Everyone, gather around Iceman. Robert, create a protective ice structure around all of you. This is about to get a little messy,"_ Emma directed. _"And do make haste."_

"Anyone else hate how bossy ol' Frosty is?" Jubilee commented as she vaulted over one of the medical tables to reach Bobby's side.

Bobby, already focusing all of his energy, began to change the molecules in the air into a dense ice cocoon from the floor upwards. He knew that he didn't have long to work, judging from the urgency of Emma's command.

_What the hell are you plannin', Emma?_ Logan said to himself. His first instinct was just to disobey and take matters into his own hands. But the building energy between Jean and Scott began to create spiderweb cracks throughout the room. Logan could hear smaller objects shattering from the pressure throughout the facility.

_"I'll be fine. And so will Scott,"_ Jean telepathically told Logan. He wondered if she had purposefully honed in on his thoughts or if she just instinctually knew that he would automatically protect her no matter what. Her telepathic voice sounded slightly strained, but had the resolve behind it to set Logan at ease.

"Come on, Irish…you're getting slow in yer old age," Logan said as effortlessly sailed over Sean's head and planted his heel in Scalphunter's face. He followed through with a knee to the face as Scalphunter went down, crushing him between Logan's adamantium-laced knee and the stone floor. He rolled to a standing position and continued making his way towards Bobby. "Ach, look who's talkin', grandpa," Sean replied as he dodged a swipe then a punch. He retaliated with his own punch then used a sonic scream to rupture the floor underneath Toad. The floor crumbled and Toad fell through. Sean took to the air, twisting to avoid an energy blast from Sinister. He soared over Logan, who automatically leaped up and grasped Sean's hands, 

allowing him to carry them to Bobby.

Kurt finished Harpoon off with an acrobatic flipping kick, teleported away, landing next to Josh. Then Kurt teleported again, landing both of them right next to Bobby.

The ice cocoon was about seven feet high now, and as Sean lowered himself and Logan into it, Bobby closed the top of it. He hoped that whatever Ms. Frost had planned would come to fruition soon, otherwise the others might freeze to death in his makeshift igloo.

"Right on time," Emma strolled over as her supple skin changed into her brilliant diamond form. Flexing her hand while giving Jean a knowing glance, she stepped towards Cyclops and placed her hand only inches away from his visor.

The energy dispersed into a thousand small beams, scattering into the room, creating a barrage of smaller, less dangerous optic blasts, which struck anything in the way at odd angles, to include the unprotected Marauders.

"A flawless diamond is the hardest material known to man, Sinister. Scott's optic blasts are nothing to me in this form," Emma gloated. "Now, Jean, hurry up and do what needs to be done!"

Jean took the split-second reprieve and turned her attention to Sinister. With all of her might, she focused telekinetic, psychic, and cosmic energy into one blast from her hands. The power flowing from her, born of anger, passion, and desperation, seemed boundless, as it intensified with every nanosecond until the entire room was bathed in a yellow glow. An aura of flame flickered around Jean, but nothing around her burned.

Sinister realized that he didn't understand the full scope of Jean's abilities, but it was too late. He had made a fatal mistake with his underestimation. Her control is what gave her access to the unlimited abilities she possessed, something that Sinister couldn't have realized. Jean's display of power with the Phoenix was uncontrolled, chaotic, and in retrospect, significantly less than what she could do now.

He regretted not being able to have the chance to study her further. But he was confident that any offspring of Jean Grey would be something more than any mutant on this planet.

Jean's attack tore though his chest, sending wave after wave of energy cascading through his body. An inferno tore through his chest, rippling through every limb, straight through to the bone. Not only that, but spikes of electrical energy fired off inside of his skull, keeping him from focusing to deliver a counter attack.

For the first time in centuries, Sinister felt pain. It was something that Sinister had grouped with love in the sense that he would never be able to feel it again. But as the pain became nearly unbearable, he smiled.

_"A multi-tiered attack on both mind and body. Well done,"_ Sinister projected his praise into Jean's mind before the force of her attack blew him through the wall, sending him pummeling down into the sewer tunnels fifty feet below them.

Jean breathed deeply, feeling slightly weakened from the expenditure of energy. But when she turned to Scott, she saw him collapse to one knee. She prayed that Sinister's hold had been broken.

"Scott?" Jean floated next to him then kneeled. She wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him, but she didn't trust herself.

Scott heard a familiar voice, but the fog kept it from being clear. He shut out everything and tried to focus. Then the fog began to lift, as if a bright light had suddenly flooded his mind and dissipated all traces of it. He felt in control and more importantly, alive. Scott reeled as he felt something else, something that he thought was long gone.

At first, he thought it was simply a memory of Jean coming back to him. But Scott found that he could feel her in his heart and mind, the rapport they shared suddenly renewed and stronger than ever. When he looked up, he saw her.

"Jean," Scott said with such certainty that it surprised her. Jean realized that this time, Scott knew it was her. No fakes. No clones. The real Jean Grey. And when he embraced her, she could feel that the real Scott Summers had returned to her.

Before she knew it, Jean felt tears streaming down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a muffled whisper came out. Scott held her tightly, secured her, unconsciously pledging to never lose her again. And Jean could feel his resolve and his undiminished love for her, something Jean didn't think that she would ever have again.

"I can't lose you again," Scott whispered.

"You won't," she pulled back from Scott and studied his face. "I'm here to stay."

"You could have at least asked if I was okay," Emma dryly interjected.

Jean turned to Emma, a slight smiled crossing her lips. "Women like us don't take damage so easily, do we?"

Emma appreciated the multi-layered comment and smiled in return. "There may be hope for you yet, Grey."

Behind them, the ice igloo evaporated and the protected, yet freezing X-Men clambered into the chamber.

Sean glanced around and saw the lack of Marauders and Sinister's absence. A huge grin spread across his face. "Ach, the lot o' ye are okay. Ah could nae see anythin' through Iceman's thick igloo," Sean throwing Bobby a glance.

Jubilee rubbed her arms brushing past Bobby. "I know! Like he was totally trying to freeze us to death or something."

In response, Bobby rolled his eyes. "Hey, it protected us, right? Besides," he flashed a goofy grin, "I can't help it that I'm so cool."

"Puh-lease," Jubilee exaggeratedly moaned. "You like obviously can't help that you're totally corny either."

"Children. Stop squabbling. Or you'll simply have a nice nap all the way back to the school, catch my drift?"

Jubilee's mouth fell open. "You wouldn't?!"

"Dr. Grey would simply wake us back up," Bobby countered.

"Tsk, tsk. Tha lass is all bark an' no bite," Sean said.

"You can nap right along with them, Cassidy."

Ignoring the playful banter around him, Josh approached Scott and Jean. "That Sinister guy—he's gone? Is it all over?"

A grim expression settled into Scott's features as he made the answer loud enough for everyone to hear. "Sinister was a threat, but not the one orchestrating this whole thing. There's someone else anmed Apocalypse hiding in the shadows. I don't know what his plan is, but right now we have to—"

The familiar, yet urgent voice of Professor Xavier suddenly erupted inside of their heads. _"X-Men! Forgive the psychic intrusion. The psychic barriers around the facility suddenly collapsed, and I was able to get through with Cerebro. Cyclops, I'm grateful to have you back to normal."_

"It's good to be back, Professor."

_"And you are right. Apocalypse is behind this whole scheme, making his quest for _

_mutant supremacy a harsh reality. He has made a drastic, aggressive move. Storm is taking her team into the city, but I fear the situation may be too great for them to handle alone."_

"Understood. We'll rendezvous with Storm's team."

_"I will remain in contact with you and monitor the situation with Cerebro. Godspeed, X-Men."_

"Zere iz rest for the weary," Kurt commented.

Scott replied. "It doesn't seem like it. Banshee, when we get to the X-Jet, make contact with the Blackbird. Select the rally point coordinates then load them to both consoles. Nightcrawler, teleport Alex back to the X-Jet. Emma, psychically scan him for any remnants of Sinister's brainwashing then wake him up. I have a feeling we're going to need all the help we can get. Let's move out and get into the city before anyone is seriously hurt."

"Back on the job for two seconds and yer already barkin' out orders."

"I take it you've got a problem with that," Scott coldly replied.

Logan thought for a moment then locked eyes with Scott. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Cyke. I never thought I'd be glad to see that one eye of yours back on our side."

Emma commented, "My, my. Are you two actually sharing a moment?"

"Nah. He's still a dick."

"Logan," Jean warned.

"Alright, people. Let's move out. Time's ticking."

Within minutes, the X-Men left the facility in the X-Jet with Alex recovering in the back, hoping that they weren't too late to stop Apocalypse. Within their hearts, everyone knew that the battle with Apocalypse would be their final battle and prayed that they would have no casualties.

Notes:

Ratdogtwo: Actually, Angel's metallic wings did have metal feathers that were tipped with a neurotoxin that disrupted an individual's nervous system, resulting in unconsciousness or paralysis. That was only with his metal wings though. His "normal" wings and feathers do not have this property.

1992WhitePhoenixOfTheCrown: Glad you like the fight scenes. I tried to pull off another huge fight scene in this chapter as well. Let me know what you think of it.


	19. Chapter 19

I.

Though nothing more than a chain of coffee shops, Betsy Braddock found herself enjoying the swanky atmosphere of the particular Starbucks she had chosen. The two cashiers behind the counter were friendly, almost sickeningly so, but the tea was really what stood out to her. Just the right temperature, just the right mix of ingredients, just the right texture for the crumpet, just the right volume level for the jazzy house music in the background, just the right mix of darker, cool colors for a relaxed atmosphere. Everything seemed to be _just right_.

Taking a sip of her tea, Betsy returned to the absolutely ludicrous story, which portrayed the popular singer and actress, Alison Blaire, as raving mad woman that attacked paparazzi needlessly while at dinner with a particular hunky co-star of her latest movie. She chuckled softly to herself imagining her long-time friend snatching the camera from the relentless photographer and burning it to a crisp with her light-based powers.

She flipped a few more pages and was pleasantly surprised to see her own face staring back at her, sporting a seductive shade of lipstick made by Revlon. Betsy flipped the pages, continuing to peruse the snapshots of various actors and models, some of who she knew or had worked with in the past.

Though she tried to keep her mind from wandering, Betsy kept returning to the fact that her friend, Doug Ramsey, was at this mysterious Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Just the name itself sounded a bit strange, as if it was somehow hiding its true purpose behind a generic title.

She had received the information from Warren Worthington II, after she couldn't get in contact with Doug. He had been telling her all about their adventures in Egypt, and they were actually in the middle of texting back and forth, when he suddenly didn't respond. Betsy tried to call, just to leave a message, but a strange static screamed back at her every time she called. Bothered by the incident, she made a call to Worthington Labs, who put her in direct contact with their boss.

"We've lost communication with the site as well, Ms. Braddock," Mr. Worthington explained. "I've actually asked some acquaintances of mine to investigate."

Betsy felt an unsettling feeling developing. "Investigate? Mr. Worthington, did something happen?"

Mr. Worthington's expression told her what she needed to know.

However, he replied, "We're not sure."

"Who did you send to investigate? I still have ties to STRIKE. They could easily—"

"I've asked the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters for help."

"A school? For gifted youngsters?"

Mr. Worthington caught the doubt in her voice. "They have the means of investigating this situation. I don't want you to be alarmed, Miss Braddock, but they've got it under control. I understand your concern, and as soon as we hear more, I'll personally keep you informed."

Mr. Worthington ended the call, leaving Betsy with more questions than answers. Driving from Atlanta to Westchester County, Betsy kept trying to imagine what could have possibly happened down at the site that had Mr. Worthington so on edge. She prayed that it was nothing dangerous and that it was simply a failure of their communications systems. But she kept getting the nagging feeling that something terrible had occurred, and that somehow, it was just the beginning.

"Miss, would you like anything else?" the cashier was making his rounds and had stopped at Betsy's table first. His nametag had Raymond printed in bold but artistic lettering.

A habit, Betsy studied him for a fraction of a moment, observing his piercing blue eyes, blond hair mostly covered by a worn baseball cap, firm jawline, muscular physique though a little short. But his mannerisms seemed a stark contrast to his outer _gym rat_ appearance.

"No, thank you. But I do appreciate the offer, luv. And you have a distinguished voice and polite mannerisms, something rarely seen these days."

Raymond looked embarrassed though he flashed a huge grin. "I'm just up at the register if you need anything, ma'am." Still pleased with Betsy's compliment, Raymond's grin remained on his face even after he left Betsy's table.

His beaming smile made Betsy smile herself as she returned to her magazine.

But only seconds later, a horrified gasp dragged Betsy from her thoughts to the large window, where before their eyes, buildings shifted and morphed into Egyptian structures. Betsy stood slowly and stared in disbelief at what she and the others were witnessing.

"What in the bloody hell…?" she whispered. As she advanced toward the window alongside the other few patrons, Betsy tried to interpret and rationalize what she was seeing, but no matter how hard she tried, it just didn't make any damn sense.

As if the realm of reality itself had been tampered with, tangible objects faded and faltered, then melted away like a mirage—sidewalks became sand-ridden paths, streets became small tributaries, and miscellaneous city commodities, such as mailboxes, lampposts, and parking meters changed into various plants and smaller stone configurations. All around them, the familiar, common sights had now become an unfriendly amalgam of bustling city and desolate desert.

As if that wasn't enough, the ground began to tremble then crack. The cracks pulsed then came alive as figures, comprised completely of granite, sprouted forth. The hulking soldiers stood tall, armed with a broadsword, all facing toward the East.

Betsy tried to follow what they were looking at, but the constraints of the window kept her from seeing anything else.

"Let the weak be separated from the strong. Warriors, gather the inferior as an offering to Lord Apocalypse. And let any that stand against you be dealt a punishment befitting."

The words rang throughout the streets, magically penetrating the café, though they had no doors or windows open. The gravelly voice spoke clearly and concisely, authoritatively dictating a set of orders that left no room for questions. Or survivors.

"So much for a peaceful cup of tea and crumpets," Betsy mumbled to herself.

"I don't understand! What's happening?!?" a teenaged, brown-haired girl cried, her eyes transfixed on the soldiers. Her voice shook and her face had paled as she pressed closer and closer to the window.

"It's Armageddon, man!" a middle-aged, shaggy haired man answered from behind her.

"No. It's the IRS. I told you, they are not foolin' around with all these hot mess people, straight evading taxes and gettin' caught up," a sassy girl next to them said.

A nerdy fellow, complete with glasses and braces announced, "No. It's alien invaders from the world of Chandilar, home of the Shi'ar, a ruthless—"

"Dude, get your head out of the clouds. This has military written all over it. It's probably some new Air Force weapon," a slender, yet formidable-looking teenage male responded.

"Oh for Christ's sake, be quiet. All of you. It really doesn't matter where the bloody things came from. What matters is that those things aren't here to have a jolly debate on politics. So, if you all want to see tomorrow, I strongly suggest that we utilize our energies to get to someplace safe."

The television behind the register caught Betsy's eye. Helicopters were circling above the city, pumping a bird's eye view of the ensuing chaos to the viewers. Pyramids and large Egyptian structures dominated every city block, replacing the skyscrapers and other buildings as if they were never there. Betsy's heart sunk as she realized that whatever was happening outside of Starbucks was happening all throughout New York City. And there was no telling how widespread it was.

Raymond's eyes were glued to the television screen as well, "Ma'am, I don't think there _is_ anywhere else that's safe."

This isn't quite how Betsy expected her trip to New York to turn out. Something monumental and terrifying was happening all around them, but she fond herself as nothing more than an innocent bystander, something Betsy wasn't entirely comfortable with. She was used to strict control of her life and situations she found herself in. But here and now, Betsy found herself baffled and just as helpless as the patrons alongside her.

_Get it together_, Betsy told herself. _This isn't the time for floundering about. I've got to make sure these people are safe from whatever's coming._ Betsy kept her thoughts in the present, fighting the impending feeling that things were only going to get worse.

Elevating her voice, Betsy addressed everyone. "This building seems to be holding up fairly well. Barricade the doors, and move away from the windows. We'll stay right here for now."

Betsy was glad when everyone started moving without protest. But just as they started moving furniture, the brown-haired girl, face locked in an expression of hopelessness cried out.

"What's going to happen to us?!? Are we really going to die?!?"

Betsy realized that her words earlier were realistic, but probably way too harsh for the given situation. She closed the gap between her and the brown-haired girl and spoke gently. "What's your name, darling?"

The girl sniffled then answered, "Tracy. Tracy Authier. My dad works for the Snow Valley Police Department."

Betsy smoothed the girl's silky hair. "Don't worry. We'll make it out of this as long as we keep level heads and help each other. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, still uncertain about their future, but visibly less shaken than before.

"That goes for everyone. I know that you're scared right now. But we've got to keep it together for now. Let's—"

The front door shattered inward, and a small group of five stone warriors charged through the opening. They moved fluidly, quickly scanning Starbucks for their intended targets. They spoke no words, simply spotted their intended targets and proceeded to approach them.

"Everyone, get to the back! NOW!" Betsy shouted orders concisely, praying no one was hurt in the chaos.

The patrons moved quickly, some clumsily. Tracy and Raymond barely escaped the grasp of two stone warriors, joining the rest of the group near the back. Betsy stepped forward, drawing the warriors' attention, positioning herself in between the rest of the group and the warriors.

"I guess having a rational conversation is out of the question, which is fine by me," Betsy's full lips curled into a smile. A split second later, a katana, bathing the Starbucks in a radiant, yet soft, violet hue, materialized in her hand. Grasping the blade, Betsy shifted her weight and took an offensive stance with her blade angled toward the stone warriors.

"She's a mutant?!?"

"Wow!"

"I think I just wet my pants."

"You kick their ass, girl. Show 'em what you're workin' with!"

In any other situation, Betsy probably would have laughed. But right now, Betsy knew that if she failed, there was little chance for any of them to survive.

Cocking an eyebrow, Betsy said to the warriors, "What are you waiting for? Let's get this show on the road, gents."

II.

"Sue, look out!"

Susan Richards snapped her head around as a granite broadsword arched towards her head. Though presumably heavy, it noiselessly sailed through the air, but hit something terribly hard only inches away from Sue. The stone warrior recoiled, thrown off-balance by the force, then was completely knocked off his feet courtesy of an invisible wrecking ball hurled right into its midsection.

The warrior feel like a ton of bricks, and Sue used the momentary victory to finish the job as the invisible wrecking ball soared into the air then came down with such force that the warrior shattered into thousands of small pieces.

"What the hell are these things?!" Johnny let a current of flames loose from his hands. The searing flames melted the hardened stone warriors with relative ease, though none seemed to care as they kept re-engaging Johnny.

Sue created two invisible walls on either side of the oncoming wave of stone warriors then forcefully slammed them together. The warriors crumbled under the force, no longer a threat to anyone. Still more continued in their direction.

"We have to get back to Reed and Ben! We'll regroup then get some answers."

For Sue Richards and Johnny Storm, the past ten minutes had erupted into a fight for their lives, while keeping innocent bystanders safe. They hadn't asked questions or required answers, they simply reacted like any superhero would and sprang into action. But the whole onset of the situation was an overwhelming mystery neither one of them could effectively figure out on their own.

Ten minutes before that, Sue and Johnny had split off from Reed and Ben. Sue wanted to do a little shopping and Reed definitely didn't have a keen eye for fashion. Johnny, though he pretended to be a macho, slightly obnoxious male, was actually a great shopping partner. Johnny, making Sue agree to help him "catch chicks" if he came along, joined Sue for a nice stroll down the sidewalk. They were about fifteen blocks away when everything changed.

The first inklings of the metamorphosis went unnoticed by the siblings as they rambled on about everything and nothing at once, avoiding any talk of their dual lives as a superhero team. There was a slight shift in the scenery around them, then the large skyscrapers and buildings seemed to fade away, like some kind of mirage. In their place stood foreign buildings and pyramids.

"Uhh…Sue?"

Sue herself had stopped talking and stood watched the transformation all around them. Surrounded by pedestrians that were just as awe-stricken and surprised, they all could do nothing but watch as their familiar world changed before their eyes. As if in sequence, the ground underneath them shifted, rumbled, then shook. Sue and Johnny were knocked to the ground, and when they looked up again, the streets were lined with statuesque warriors.

All of them looked to have been cut from the same mold—about six and a half feet tall, broad shouldered, large muscles, armored, brandishing rather large broadswords. Their eyes were transfixed on something too far away for Sue or Johnny to see. They looked at each other, and already knew that whatever was going to happen next wouldn't be good.

"Let the weak be separated from the strong. Warriors, gather the inferior as an offering to Lord Apocalypse. And let any that stand against you be dealt a punishment befitting."

Sue halfway expected the voice to be that of Victor Von Doom, the stone warriors a smaller portion of some larger plot to take over the world. But instead, the voice was unfamiliar and threatening.

The warriors moved in response to the voice, and suddenly everything was thrown into chaos. Sue and Johnny knew that for now, they were the only thing protecting the citizens from this new threat, wherever it came from. Though outnumbered, Johnny and Sue worked together to take out what seemed like a significant number of the stone warriors. But they seemed to be infinite in number as more and more appeared to take the fallen warriors' place.

"I'll take care of getting the rest of these people to safety," Sue told Johnny. "You need to find Ben and Reed." Her tone left no room for argument, but of course, Johnny argued.

"I'm not going to leave you by yourself."

Sue's blue eyes flared as they bore into his. "If you don't find my husband, Johnny, I'll kill you myself. Now GO!"

Johnny, though visibly reluctant shot straight up in the air, looped, then zoomed down the street, leaving behind a trail of flames. _Dammit, Sue. Always trying to be so damn tough_, he said. He prayed that he was fast enough to find Reed and Ben and get them back to Sue before something terrible happened.

_Please hurry_, Sue thought as she whipped around to face another line of stone warriors.

III.

"There's a transmission coming in, Storm," Kitty Pryde announced. The transmission console was only a few feet from her, so when the _incoming_ light began to flash, she was the first to notice it. She slid out of her seat and into the one by the console, quickly decoding the message and the coordinates along with it. "It's Banshee. They sent us rally point coordinates. The Professor's going to monitor the situation with Cerebro. The targets were acquired." Kitty shook her head, "That guy has no sense of organization."

Ororo turned to Kitty, reluctantly taking her eyes off of the shifting scene before them. "Program the coordinates into the computer then activate the internal homing device. That should give them our current location, as well as transmit our coordinates back to Cerebro."

"Got it." Feeling totally useful, Kitty quickly accomplished the tasks, thankful that though it was her first time using the console, she figured out how to do what Ororo had asked her with relative ease and speed.

Ororo knew she needed to wait for the others, but at the rate the city was changing, and judging from the radio conversation Bishop had, things were only getting worse as the moments ticked by. "Beast, can you use Cerebra to access the local news cameras to get a better visual?" Ororo asked.

Hank, his hands flying over the Blackbird console version of Cerebro, displayed several images from the news cameras. The Daily Bugle, NCBC, and W-ARC TV were quick to dispatch their camera-equipped helicopters, despite the unknown and real danger. Using Cerebra, it was almost child's play for Hank to tap into the feed then display the pictures within the Blackbird.

Without being told, Kitty linked the video feed into the X-Jet for their teammates. "Storm, the other team's watching this too," Kitty informed their leader.

Ororo nodded, impressed by the girl's quick response. Yet, she shouldn't have been that surprised because that is what they trained the X-Men for. And despite her age and demeanor at times, she was as much of an X-Man as she or Logan.

Everyone's eyes were transfixed on the images displayed in the middle of the cabin. One of the close-ups showed an army of stone warriors being birthed from the ground. In dramatic fashion, they rose from the earth and lined the streets, staring at something the cameras couldn't quite catch. The Daily Bugle camera suddenly caught a glimpse of another stone figure, but he was much older looking and much more frail in appearance. He stood atop one of the tallest and largest pyramid, the location they all assumed housed Apocalypse.

Shouting out into the city, the figure said, "Let the weak be separated from the strong. Warriors, gather the inferior as an offering to Lord Apocalypse. And let any that stand against you be dealt a punishment befitting."

There was a moment of dead silence then the warriors sprang to life, carrying out the merciless orders of their leader.

"Storm, what're they gonna do ta tha folks in the city?" Rogue leaned forward, her eyes filled with horror.

Ororo surmised that they would be herded like cattle to some kind of pen to either be put to work as slaves or worse. And anyone that stood in opposition would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. Still they didn't have much time, and hopefully, the other team realized the same thing.

Ororo answered, "Our role is not to imagine the worst, Rogue. For now, we must ensure no harm comes to the citizens of this city. And that Apocalypse's nefarious plan does not come to fruition."

Pushing forward on the throttle, Ororo accelerated toward the rally point, a wide rooftop of one of the only normal structures still standing. As the Blackbird neared, she could see the X-Jet approaching from the opposite direction, already lowering atop the platform. Ororo landed quickly but gently, and the two teams met up on the rooftop.

Ororo greeted the rest of her teammates. "Thank the goddess all of you are unharmed. And Scott, your survival is something to truly rejoice. Unfortunately, we do not have the time for the normal pleasantries of a reunion. Cyclops, I am sure that you have formulated a plan."

"So far, we have four main threats that need our attention. Apocalypse, the leader of the stone warriors, the Horsemen, and the rescue of citizens. We'll divide into three teams to cover the threats. Phoenix, Beast, Iceman, you're with me. We're taking on the Horsemen. Four of us, four of them. Storm, your team—Colosssus, Nightcrawler, Wolverine, Banshee and…"

Kitty leaped up and down from behind the pack, waving her hand.

Ororo noticed the scene from her peripheral and gave Scott an almost unnoticeable nod of consent.

"…and Shadowcat. Infiltrate the pyramid. Find the leader of the stone warriors and take him out. More than likely, Apocalypse is there as well. Take extreme caution. Bishop, right? You lead the third team. Havoc, you're second in command. The rest of the team will go with the both of you. Your team is hitting the streets. The stone warriors appear to be tough, but we've got lives at stake. Including our own."

Ororo added, "He is right, X-Men. Our enemies do not value life the same way we do. As such, do not recklessly endanger yourselves or anyone else. All of the hours in the Danger Room are nothing compared to what we are about to face. Now is not the time for doubt or hesitation." Ororo's sky blue eyes scanned her audience, paying special attention to the younger members and the newly resurrected ones. Now more than ever, Ororo had to trust that they were all ready and prepared for what lie ahead.

She gave Scott a nod, realizing that now, both of them were the leaders of the X-Men. And anything that happened, good or bad, was on both of their shoulders.

"X-Men," Scott said, "it's time to save the world."

IV.

Pangs of fatigue began to eat away at Sue Richards' concentration, which nearly secured her death at the hands of one of the stone warriors. Though filled with bravado and adrenaline when she first ordered Johnny to find Ben and Reed, she hadn't really considered her own limits. Now, faced with an unending onslaught of mysterious stone warriors, Sue was starting to consider her decision a mistake.

Sue crushed her attacker between two forcefields, but another warrior had flanked her. She reacted too late as a crushing fist came down on her. Because of her invisible forcefield, the blow didn't crush her head. Dazed, Sue fell to the ground, unable to concentrate enough to retaliate against her attacker, which has its broadsword raised high in the air, only moments form crashing down on a vulnerable Invisible Woman.

An explosion sounded behind her, and Sue glanced back to see the stone warriors head explode. Another explosion destroyed the broadsword. Two more took out the body and one of the legs. Sue turned in the direction of the shots and found a tall, muscular man brandishing a pair of unidentifiable firearms. His close haircut, goatee, and cool, yet serious, expression gave her the impression that he may be one of the good guys.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Richards?"

Bishop helped her to her feet, and a slightly embarrassed Sue replied, "Yeah. Thanks for the save. These things just won't stop coming."

"That's why we're here."

"We?"

As if on cue, Michael sped down the street, stopping to assist a downed older gentleman. Rogue soared overhead, while an acrobatic Remy flipped off a lamppost, landed and launched a handful of cards at a group of stone warriors. Alex let raw plasma rip from his hands, which tore through a line of stone warriors with relative ease. Jubilee bombarded another congregation of stone warriors with destructive plasmoids, which upon explosion created an impressive fireworks display. Sage's pinpoint strikes effectively took out the stone warriors she confronted, despite their hardened exterior. Emma, flanked by Josh, directed the action from the back, keeping everyone psychically connected.

"The X-Men, Mrs. Richards," Bishop clarified.

"Ah, the famed X-Men," Sue stated, a curious smile playing across her lips. "I didn't think we'd ever cross paths. And it's either Sue or Susan—none of this Mrs. Richards stuff. It makes me sound like a school teacher. Any clue as to what's going on here? These things just appeared out of nowhere."

"Long story. But we've got other teams taking care of the root of the problem. We're here to help get people to safety."

"Bishop, there are some people in this Starbucks!" Michael called from his position. He helped the man into the Starbucks, followed by Sage, Bishop, and Sue. Once inside, they scanned the crowd, and noticed an Asian woman seemingly taking care of the rest. Bishop scanned the room, noticing the remains of stone warriors. The appendages and heads had been cleanly separated, as if with a keen blade. But Bishop didn't immediately spot any weapon that could have accomplished such a thing. Nor did he see anyone that could have possibly performed an act.

But there was something peculiar about the Asian woman.

Sage leaned in close to Bishop. "There were five stone warriors in here. And there is one mutant. The Asian woman."

As if hearing Sage, Betsy turned to the group. "I was always taught that it was bad manners to talk about someone, especially while they were within earshot."

The regal British accent surprised Bishop, given the woman's strong Japanese features. But he suppressed his initial surprise and replied, "I apologize. I'm Detective Lucas Bishop. Are you okay?"

Betsy stood, brushing off her top. "Fine, but those bloody ruffians dirtied my blouse."

"Did you defeat these warriors yourself?" Sue asked.

"Girl, she beat their ass," the sassy girl answered.

"She was like ninja swordswoman from hell!"

"A total bad ass!"

Betsy, a little embarrassed from the comments, said, "I had to protect these people. Everything just started changing around us. Then we were attacked. If I hadn't been here, these people—"

Sage gave the woman a once over. "Telekinetic weapon manifestation, usually in the form of a katana. Formidable telepath. Immune to all psychic manipulations. Master-level martial artist and swordswoman. And model."

Betsy smiled pleasantly. "Well, now, I must say that I'm impressed. Have we met before?"

"No," Sage coldly answered. The two women stared at each other for a moment, before Sage turned to Bishop. "I'm going to assist the others outside. We've got a lot of work to do. I'll send the Foley kid in." She strode away without another word.

"I've heard she's always like that," Michael explained as he neared the group. The man he had helped was chatting with the others in the background, all coming to their own conclusions on what was going on and who these heroes were.

Betsy brushed off the strange interaction. "It's no big deal. Really. The lot of you look like the good guys. What's going on out there?"

"It's a long story," Bishop began.

Michael interjected. "Long story short: bad guy wants to rule the world. But he wants to do it Egyptian style. We're here to stop it."

"I need you to give Reed a lesson or two on brevity," Sue joked.

Betsy explained her own situation. "I was on my way to find a friend of mine, Doug Ramsey. I was told he was at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters."

Bishop replied, "He's safe. We're from Xavier's."

"Splendid. If he's safe then I would like to ensure the safety of the rest of the people in this city."

"That's what we're here for. We can use your help if you're willing to give it."

Betsy smiled. "I'm Betsy Braddock. But simply call me Psylocke for now."

Michael's mouth fell open. "How do you have a codename already?"

"It's a truly long story that can't be summarized in a few sentences."

Bishop shook her hand. "Welcome to the team, Psylocke."

Sue said, "I sent Johnny to find Ben and Reed. But I don't know if he's okay by himself."

Bishop spoke into his radio then turned back to Sue. "I sent Rogue and Gambit to find all of them. Your shields will come in handy with the survivors here, if you don't mind helping."

"Glad to."

"Since this is one of the remaining buildings, we'll use this as a safe-house for the time being." Bishop turned to see Josh gingerly stepping over the debris. "I'm going to keep you here with the Invisible Woman. Help her with the injured."

Josh nodded, and immediately turned his attention to the survivors in the back of the Starbucks. Ignoring their curiosity about his golden skin, Josh began to heal their minor wounds.

To Sue, Bishop said, "We're going to do our best to clear the streets and send folks this way. Here's an extra comm device. If anything happens, contact us."

"Understood. I don't have the full picture of what's going on, but you X-Men be safe. And stop this madman."

Bishop nodded to Michael, and the moment they stepped out of the Starbucks, Sue encased the building in an invisible shield, impenetrable to everything but air.

V.

"Rogue, this is Bishop. Status report."

"No sign of the targets, hun. Looks like there're still folks on tha street. I reckon most are holed up with tha doors locked and shutters closed tight. But these dang movin' statues are scattered around like roaches in tha light, and it looks like they keep appearin' outta tha blue."

"Engage the enemy where you can. Don't hesitate to call for backup if you need it. Bishop out."

About fifteen blocks away from Bishop, Rogue soared about fifty feet overhead, continually scanning the streets for any people in trouble or the rest of the Fantastic Four. So far, she had managed to have a few confrontations with some of the stone warriors, which were no match for her strength, saved a young woman that loved the fact that Rogue could fly, and even give Remy some backup.

Remy took the low road, maneuvering through the street with the finesse and grace of a thief, sticking to the shadows and using his acrobatic skills to keep himself out of too many run-ins with the stone warriors. But those that did manage to hold Remy's attention, received an explosive ace of spades.

"So we're looking for a flying fireball, a rock creature, and a human rubber band, right cheré ?" Remy asked, using the radio.

Rogue rolled her eyes, noticing that though Remy was running in front of her, he had his eyes glued on her. Before she could chastise him, she witnessed Remy run straight into a stone warrior. "Dang it!"

Rogue angled downward, just as Remy slipped out of its grasp. She kept a straight path, hoping to land a direct punch, but instead, the stone warrior reacted much faster than Rogue anticipated, and landed a blow to her midsection. The force sent Rogue flying backwards uncontrollably.

Dazed, Rogue was startled when she actually landed on something soft instead of the concrete. "Gotcha, cheré," Remy smiled as he gazed deeply into Rogue's eyes. "Rogue should be a little more careful 'bout whose arms she falls into."

Rogue blushed, embarrassed at her own clumsiness. But her embarrassment also surfaced because Remy's passionate eyes were locked with hers. And his soft-looking lips were so close to hers that all he had to do was lean in a bit more and they would be locked in a kiss.

"Be careful, sugah," Rogue wriggled her way out of his arms. "If Ah hadda touched ya, somethin' bad coulda happened. Besides, if Ah hadn't been tryin' ta save yo butt—" but Rogue never finished the sentence as she and Remy both saw a car flying towards them.

Rogue leaped into the air and caught it with ease, setting it back on the ground. But another car was already on its way. "Gambit, circle 'round. Ah'll keep 'im busy."

Remy moved stealthily to the other side of the street, stayed close to the buildings, then came out behind the stone warrior. It was then that Remy noticed the overturned truck with a large tank blocking the street behind Rogue. But the thing that alarmed Remy was the flammable sign on the tank. The stone warrior wasn't trying to hit Rogue—it was trying to blow the truck up.

"Rogue, get outta dere!" Remy shouted.

But Rogue's had dodged the last oncoming car and heard it hit something not concrete at the last second. She heard the familiar explosions of Remy's cards, probably taking out the stone warrior, but too late she realized that the car had hit the tank.

"Oh, no," Rogue said, paralyzed by the sudden thought of dying. She didn't know the limits of her new invulnerability, but now wasn't the time to test it out. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a huge, orange mass of rocks charging toward her.

With only seconds to act, Ben grabbed Rogue and shielded her, his back to the oncoming explosion.

"I've gotcha kid. Do your thing."

Rogue reached towards Ben's face. He closed his eyes in anticipation as her soft hand touched his hardened face. Immediately, Rogue felt a surge of energy enter her hand then quickly travel through her body. In ways that she didn't understand, her body adapted to Ben's mutation, changing her skin to mimic his.

The transfer was quick and Rogue let go before any of Ben's psyche began to seep into her own.

Giving only a glance at her orange, rock-hard skin, Rogue pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, and nodded in response to Ben's reassuring wink. In the next second, a flood of flames washed over them, burying them in searing heat.

"Rogue!" Remy yelled, shielding his eyes from the heat wave. Remy felt something wrap around his waist then he was yanked backwards as the fire reached the spot Remy was standing. Placed back on his feet, the something around his waist unraveled, and when Remy followed it, he saw that it was and elongated, stretchy arm, which returned to its original size.

"What're you doing?!? Rogue's—"

"Just fine. Ben's with her. She has the power to absorb other mutants and superheroes' powers. In this case, Ben's hardened exterior, which is resistant to extreme temperature, will prove quite useful. The uniforms you have will give her added protection."

"How 'bout these uniforms, mon ami?"

"Because I helped create them. I'm Reed Richards. I take it you're in league with Professor Charles Xavier. We spotted you from down the street and tried to get here in time to help."

Remy didn't need a whole lot of explanation, and the guy seemed genuine. Still, Remy kept a cautious eye on him as the fire began to dissipate, leaving behind the crouched figure of Ben, hunched over Rogue much smaller frame.

As the fire vanished, Ben and Rogue stood, just as Rogue's absorption of Ben's mutation wore off. Her skin reverted back to normal, and she pulled her hood back down, shaking her hair.

"That was a close call," Rogue said to Ben, her heart still racing. "Thanks for tha rescue."

Ben grinned. "Don't worry about it. We do this kind of thing all the time. You still up for some more clobberin'?"

Rogue nodded, still reeling from the incident. If Ben hadn't arrived when he did, she wasn't sure what would have happened to her . "Ah think so. But actually, we were looking for y'all. Tha Invisible Woman is helpin' us get folks to safety."

"Hey, Stretch-o! Suzie's with them!" Ben called down the street. It was then that Rogue noticed Remy approaching with someone else. She presumed he was Reed Richards. But there was no sign of the Human Torch.

"Man, all I had to do was follow your loud mouth and _presto!_ The lost are now found," Johnny mused. He floated a few feet behind them, having taken care of the fire from the tank.

Ben grumbled a response, but no one quite caught it.

"I thought you were with Sue," Reed said as he closed the gap.

Johnny gave a nervous laugh. "Well…um…we _were_ together. But she got all super-worried about you. So she made me find you."

"You left her?!?" Reed shouted.

"Hey, you know how she can be. The street was pretty much clear anyways. I'm sure she's safe."

"Bishop, this is Rogue. We found tha rest of tha Fantastic Four. We're headin' back yo' way."

VI.

Michael had separated from Bishop and the others, checking out the buildings for any more injured or anyone who may need help. There were stone warriors lurking about, but for the most part, Michael was way too fast for them to get a hold of.

And he didn't find any stone warriors herding any of the citizens toward impending doom, so Michael thought that things were going well. Until he heard dreadful screams echoing from the rooftops.

"Nooooo! Please! Aaaahhhh!!!!"

The desperate cries rained down, and Michael quickly scanned the tops of the buildings until he caught a glimpse of a person, maybe two, retreating from a stone warrior.

_How the hell did they get all the way up there? _Michael questioned as he burst into the front doors of the fifty-story building where the people were running for their lives. He glanced left and right then took off to the left, toward the door labeled _stairs_. Taking three or four at a time and rebounding off the walls, Michael made it to the rooftop in less than ten seconds, which he felt was way too long.

Emerging on the rooftop, Michael spotted the stone warrior converging on the group of five people.

"Please! What do you want from us?!?" a girl cried.

"Hey!! Michael found a huge rock and hurled it at the stone warrior, hitting it right in the back of the head. "Hey, you. Leave them alone!"

The stone warrior seemed to suddenly lose interest in the group and turned toward Michael. He began to advance toward him, slowly. But Michael heard something behind him, and barely dodged a swipe from a broadsword.

"Go! Run now!" Michael shouted at the group. They hesitated only for a second then they were tumbling over each other to get to the stairway. As they disappeared down the stairs, Michael thought he would simply follow suit, but the two stone warriors were really focused on him.

_Okay. Give the folks time to get away. Keep these guys distracted._

The two stone warriors somehow maneuvered between Michael and the stairway then began to slowly advance on him. Broadswords raised, they closed the gap quickly then swung at him.

Michael expected it and dodged accordingly, but the ferocity of the attack surprised Michael. The sheer strength behind that swing was enough to do some permanent damage, if he wasn't careful. Fighting these guys was nothing like fighting Toad. And that worried Michael.

_Dammit. I'm in over my head_, Michael silently cursed. As he took a hesitant step back, his foot brushed against a metal pole. Glancing down, Michael saw that the metal pole was just the right length and just the right diameter—picking it up, he twirled it over his head then whipped it to his side.

"You guys are messing with the wrong X-Man!" Michael said as he propelled towards his enemies. With a pronounced _kiai_, Michael struck the first stone warrior in the face, chipping off half of its jaw. Combining forward strikes with speed, Michael pummeled its torso and arms in a jabbing motion, succeeding in hundreds of hits in only a matter of seconds. With a graceful spin, Michael swung the metal pole low and took out its legs.

But Michael had no time to celebrate his single victory as the other stone warrior ran forward, wildly swinging its broadsword. Michael rose to one knee and blocked an overhead strike, blocked a deadly jab, and dodged a decapitating swing. The two weapons clashed, creating a shower of sparks as Michael swung with all his might at the stone warrior. The stone warrior advanced with deadly intent, and Michael, though handling himself well, inadvertently kept taking retreating steps.

It wasn't until Michael felt nothing under his rear foot that he realized he was close to the edge. But by then, he was already falling.

Michael sucked in a breath, his heart pounding through his chest. He could feel his entire body tense as he flailed for something to grab onto. His body twisted in midair as he toppled head over foot past windows. The wind whipped around him and despite Michael's most desperate attempts, there was nothing to stop his fall.

He had made a fatal mistake.

Michael hit something unexpectedly. It gave way slightly then suddenly, Michael felt like he was rising instead of falling. Then falling. Then rising.

"Usually, it's M. J. or Gwen I'm catching like this. You don't really fit the description of a damsel in distress."

Michael realized that his eyes were closed. He opened them to find his arm draped around the neck of a strangely clothed figure, who held onto Michael with relative ease as they swung between buildings.

Michael was at a loss for words momentarily. Then shakily, he said, "You saved me. Thanks."

"That's what I do. Save people. I even save wannabe superheroes like you. Now, where are your parents?"

"My parents?" Michael, still dazed, didn't quite catch onto what this guy was saying. Then it hit him, considering his young appearance and obvious clumsy incident. "Wait. I'm with the X-Men. I'm not someone pretending to be a hero, Web Guy."

"It's Spiderman. Geez. It's not like my name isn't all over the front page of the Daily Bugle or anything. Anyways, you're lucky that I happened to be in the neighborhood."

Michael scoffed. "Friendly neighborhood spider, right? Am I supposed to ask for your autograph or something?"

Spiderman thought for a second. "Actually, I just want to know where I can get the fancy leather suit. I think this spandex look is way overused."

"I'd rather be in street clothes."

"Really? M.J. said leather was the new spandex—" Spiderman stopped as he felt a familiar, yet unnerving tingling sensation travel up his spine, ending somewhere in the depths of his mind. Immediately, adrenaline rushed through his body, and multiple other chemical changes occurred that heightened his senses, reaction time, and strength. This familiar feeling was his Spider Sense—danger was approaching from somewhere, and Spiderman knew he only had a few seconds to react.

The danger came from below as a large chunk of concrete defied gravity, hurling towards the duo with the force of a comet.

"Hang on!" Spiderman said as he swung upwards, hard. The momentum shot the both of them into the air, as Spiderman released his web rope. They did a backflip, the chunk of concrete sailing right underneath them as they came parallel with the ground below. For that moment in time, everything moved in slow motion, until Spiderman launched another web rope, sending them on a severe drop as if they were on a rollercoaster.

"Let's not do that again," Michael stammered as he swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. His heart was once again hammering his ribcage, and for a moment, Michael thought that he would die of a heart attack if nothing else.

Spiderman laughed in response, as if Michael had told a funny joke. "You've got to get a stronger stomach in this line of work."

"I'll stick to the ground, thanks."

"So are you taking out the escaped museum statue or am I, X-Kid?"

"Whatever, Spider_boy_. You don't sound much older than me."

"It's Spider_man_," he corrected as they made a wide arc. Another chunk of concrete slammed into the building, barely missing its intended target.

"It's…" Michael began then found himself at a loss. "Wait, I don't have a codename. Dammit."

Spiderman laughed. "Rookie."

"I'll take the low road. I guess you've got the high road. You good with that?"

Spiderman rebounded back upwards then curved around, approaching the stone warrior from the other direction. "Just try not to fall again, okay?"

"Thanks," Michael sourly said as Spiderman dipped low. Michael let go, flipped in the air, and hit the ground, running at full speed. He dashed past the stone warrior and grabbed the metal pole, which had slipped from his hands as he fell. Without losing any momentum, Michael aimed it forward like a javelin.

"Hey, you!" Spiderman taunted as he sailed over the stone warrior's head. "Yeah, you, the steroid-popping creep tearing up the avenue. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?!?"

The stone warrior tore another chunk of the street and hurled it at Spiderman. In yet another acrobatic display, Spiderman flipped, landed on the chunk, ran across it, then hopped off, launching another web rope and swinging himself around again.

"I didn't say _I_ was your size!"

"Take this!!!" Michael yelled as the metal pole jabbed into the stone warrior's side. The momentum sent the pole straight through the stone warrior. The pole jutted out from either side of the stone warrior as it turned on Michael.

"On second thought," Spiderman said as he wrapped his web around the two ends of the pole. Spiderman flipped over the stone warrior then used the momentum to lift and flip it over his head. The stone warrior crashed headfirst into the street, crumbling into thousands of pieces.

Michael walked over and dusted the bits of sandstone off of the metal pole. Picking it up, Michael smiled as he neared Spiderman. "I'm impressed. And I didn't fall down this time."

Spiderman gave him a thumbs-up. "Good job. You're still in the running to be a superhero."

"Looks like I'll have plenty of more chances to improve," Michael commented as stone warriors encircled them.

"Are you good with that thing?" Spiderman asked, referencing the metal pole.

"For both our sakes, let's hope so," Michael replied.

VII.

Without hesitation, Scott's team, consisting of Jean, Hank, and Bobby launched into an all-out offensive against the stone warriors. Though they knew that whatever generated these monstrosities could probably do so infinitely, they figured that they would at least get a warm-up before the real thing.

And a matter of minutes, their intended audience showed up.

"So, you X-Men have come to seal your fate at my hands?" Warren hovered above them, face shrouded in shadow, only allowing his luminescent eyes to show. Directly below him, Caliban bared his teeth as he stared hungrily at the foursome.

"Warren, what have they done to you?" Bobby asked, his mouth agape. He was the only one in the group that hadn't expected Warren to be altered so much. But even past the blue skin, menacing stare, and metal wings, Bobby could still easily identify Warren.

"I am enlightened. The Age of Apocalypse is upon us…now is the time for the strong to stand with Apocalypse and crush the weak. This is your last chance…stand with me or die at my hands."

_"Jean, can you reach him telepathically?"_ Scott asked.

_"No. Apocalypse's hold on him is too strong. I can't read him at all. But I can still feel Warren's psyche holding on."_

_"Which means we can get him back with a little force."_

Scott readied himself. "Here's the plan, Warren. You're going to let us pass. And we're going to defeat Apocalypse."

Warren gave an evil laugh. "Then you choose death at my hands. And I shall deliver your dead carcasses to Lord Apocalypse."

"Warren, you have to fight Apocalypse's brainwashing!" Bobby pleaded.

Warren responded with multiple shots of his poison-laced feathers. Dropping the temperature of the moisture in the air in front of him, a thick ice wall materialized between Bobby and the oncoming feathers, while Jean created a repelling telekinetic shield, protecting Hank, Scott, and her, the feathers simply stopping in midair then dropping to the ground. As feathers stuck Bobby's ice wall, he shifted to the side of it, using it as a cover while he shot blunt ice projectiles at Warren.

Moving fast and autonomously, Warren's metal wings wrapped around him, and the ice balls simply shattered on impact.

"There's nothing to fight, Iceman!" Warren smiled sadistically. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a crimson bolt of energy heading his way, while at the same time, Bobby had constructed and ice slide and was nearing Warren. Spinning gracefully, Warren's wing deflected the optic blast, sending it straight under Bobby's feet. Before he could react, the ice slide shattered, Bobby lost his balance, and he began to fell headfirst toward the ground.

"I've got you," Jean held out a hand and wrapped her thoughts around Bobby's entire body, slowing him down then gently placing him on the ground.

"But who's got you?" Caliban taunted as he swiped at Jean.

"One thing you'll learn," Jean said as she lifted him off the ground, "is that you can't sneak up on a psi." Jean forcefully threw him into an Egyptian structure. The walls gave way easily, crumbling all around Caliban's limp body. But Jean knew that he was just playing possum. So she wasn't surprised at all when Caliban leaped back up and charged at her.

What did surprise her is when a growling Hank leaped over her head and landed a hard face punch on Caliban, knocking the mutant off his feet.

"My dear, Jean. Your grace and finesse are one of a kind," Hank dodged a retaliatory swipe and leaped in the air with an acrobatic flip kick, hitting Caliban squarely in the chest. He continued, "But there are times when brute strength gets the task accomplished just as well."

Jean had no doubt that Hank would win his fight, but their battle against Warren was something entirely different. But if it went on for much longer, either Scott or Bobby would be seriously hurt. She quickly turned her attention to Scott and then spotted a broken window pane. Quickly, she lifted the glass, and immediately held it suspended in the air.

"Scott, Bobby, shoot Warren now!"

Without hesitation, Scott let another optic blast tear from his eyes. Just as before, Warren's wings defected the beam, this time, right at Jean. But she was ready and used the glass to deflect the beam right back at Warren. Bobby joined in at precisely the right time, focusing the moisture in the air to create his own ice beam of sorts.

"Fools! You can't hit me," Warren mocked as he positioned himself to deflect the two attacks. His wings moved to deflect it, and that's when another beam flew at him, past his wings, and struck him on the side of his head, effectively stunning Warren, though his wings kept him aloft.

"Maybe now you'll realize you only have _two_ wings," Scott said. "Bobby, take him down."

Leaping back on his ice slide, Bobby raced around Warren until he was at his back. Taking the moisture around Warren, Bobby lowered the temperature and concentrated on forming ice on Warren's wings. The wings flapped slowly then froze solid as thick, Arctic ice encasing them.

Before Warren realized what was happening, he was falling and hit the ground hard, striking his head against the concrete.

Jean sensed a sudden lapse in Warren's psyche, as if the tides had turned and Warren was successfully fighting Apocalypse's hold on him. Seizing a golden opportunity, Jean closed her eyes and entered Warren's mind, despite it being unstable, which in itself was risky for both of them. But she knew that if they wanted to save Warren, this would be the only chance they had.

Instantly, Jean found herself in what appeared to be a dark sewer. The walls were slick with mold, and a stream of thick liquid ran away from Jean, disappearing into the distant darkness. Muffled agonizing screams rang out from somewhere in the shadows, too far for Jean to pinpoint.

At this point, Jean couldn't tell if she was seeing how Warren was picturing his own mind or if it was her perception of Warren's mind. Either way, she had to find Warren's true mind. And hoped she could do it without Death finding out.

Still able to simulate telekinesis, Jean floated down the tunnel, looking for some kind of sign of Warren, but when she came to the hub of an intersection, the tunnel branched off in what seemed like hundreds of directions.

_Come on, Jean. You're stronger than this. Find Warren now_, she commanded herself. Jean focused, remembering her early lessons on traversing someone else's mind, courtesy of Professor Xavier. Concentrating, Jean focused on what she knew of Warren's personality, and pinpointing the crux of it.

Suddenly, Jean noticed a feather floating down in front of her. Reaching out, Jean let it fall into her hand, surprised at its appearance. This feather—it was the path. Looking out, Jean found a trail of evenly spaced feathers leading down on of the tunnels on the left. Racing down it, Jean sped towards the end, following the feather trail through twisting tunnels and switchback turns.

Finally, Jean ended up in a wide room with tunnels branching off of it as well. But when Jean saw what was in the room, she sucked in a breath.

A shackled Warren hung limply from the wall, his body and face drawn. His wings were dirtied and dingy, and his hair was matted to his forehead. Metaphorically, this was Warren's psyche, imprisoned and weak from Apocalypse's influence. It was only a matter of time before it withered away, and Warren would be completely consumed by Apocalypse.

"Warren!" Jean cried out as she floated to his side. Jean gently lifted his head as she spoke. "Listen to me. I'm going to get you out of here. You've been—"

"He's as good as dead," a cold voice cut in.

Startled, Jean spun to find the Horseman of Apocalypse, Death, staring back at her. He shouldn't have been able to sneak up on her, but Jean quickly remembered that she was in Warren's mind. And Apocalypse's control strengthened Warren's mental abilities. If she wasn't careful, Jean and Warren could end up in serious trouble.

"You don't belong here," Death continued. The maniacal look in his eyes set off alarms, though Jean kept herself from revealing it. He advanced toward her and Warren as he spread his metallic wings.

"Like hell I do," Jean said as she turned and with a thought, tore off the shackles. She draped Warren's arm around hers then levitated the both of them inches off of the cavern floor. Propelling herself forward, Jean soared through the winding corridors, not even for a moment looking back for Death.

"Jean?" Warren weakly mumbled. "He's in front of us—"

Startled, Jean glanced up much too late, as a large metal wing batted the both of them across the room. Despite having erected a telekinetic shield, which absorbed much of the hit, Jean and Warren flailed through the air until they hit the wall, leaving behind a hefty dent, then crumbled to the ground.

It had been some time since Jean was on a battle with someone in their own mind. And so far, she wasn't faring very well.

Jean stood and moved away from Warren, hoping to draw Death away from him. It worked.

Death began to approach Jean. He seethed, "This mind, this body belongs to me. No one will stop me from serving by my lord's side. No one."

Jean's full lips curled into a smile. "You underestimate me, Death. I'm not just anyone," and that moment, Jean unleashed a psi-blast, a concentrated attack purely composed of psychic energy. But Jean's blast was amplified thanks to the Phoenix powers, and Death was caught off guard.

The blast hit Death hard, and he staggered.

"You bitch! I'll kill y—" Death suddenly tensed, his eyes opening wide with disbelief and pain. He tore his eyes away from Jean to the source of the pain, and found the point of a blade putting from between his ribs. Black blood seeped from the wound, pouring down his stomach and creating a puddle at his feet.

Turning slowly, he found Warren standing behind him, his hands stained with the dark blood.

"This is my mind and my body. And I'm taking it back!"

Death lunged at Warren. Though weak, Warren was able to sidestep Death, who simply twisted and tumbled onto his back, the wound now profusely bleeding. Warren knew that he couldn't kill the Death persona, not without doing serious damage to himself with them being intertwined, but his gave Warren strength to take control again.

"You came to help me," Warren said.

"We didn't want to lose you. There has been too much death in our ranks as of late." Jean gave the fallen body of Death a fleeting glance. "I can erase all this from your mind, Warren. You wouldn't have to live with this."

Warren turned and kneeled next to Death. Warren brushed his hands over Death's eyes, closing them. "No, don't," Warren quietly answered. He stood and faced Jean. "It hurts me, but the atrocities Death did, they were by my hand. I—I have to remember."

"Living with death on your hands isn't easy." Jean's eyes softened and she smiled, "It's a heavy burden to bear. Trust me, I know. You're a strong man, Warren." She gave his face a motherly caress before Jean left his mind, fading from his consciousness.

Jean's mental rescue of Warren took mere seconds in the real world, but Scott was relieved nonetheless when he felt Jean. But he could also feel something else, and as he took a step back, he realized that Jean was going to try to undo what Apocalypse had done.

As Jean's eyes opened, they began to glow white hot as a corona of flames surrounded her. Sheer energy cascaded around Jean, shifting and moving anything that wasn't bolted to the ground. Concentrating, Jean narrowed her eyes and focused on Warren.

In her mind, she could see any aspect of Warren that she desired, both physically and mentally, down to the molecular level. It was through this that she clearly understood Apocalypse's hold on Warren and the others. And how to break it.

Using the fine-tuned finesse of a telekinetic and the raw power of her Phoenix abilities, Jean began to erase the traces of Apocalypse throughout Warren's body and mind. While this occurred on the inside, Warren writhed on the ground and screamed. But as he screamed, Scott and the others witnessed the gradual transformation.

Warren's blue skin faded and his fair complexion returned, along with his golden blond hair. As that change occurred, his metal wings dulled then began to crack—then they shattered with a loud _crash_. Warren's radiant white wings had been encased in the metal wings and now, they were free, flexing in the wide open air.

With a final scream, Warren fell limp, but his normal appearance had fully returned.

With Apocalypse's hold on Warren broken, freeing the others would prove to be much easier. Jean turned her attention to Caliban, lifting his unconscious body into the air before undoing Apocalypse's mutation. Once finished, Jean set him back on the ground gently as her eyes returned to their normal appearance and then she lowered herself to the ground.

Hank bounded over to Warren to check his vitals. As Hank checked Warren's pulse, the young man stirred then his eyes fluttered.

"Hank, is that you?" Warren mumbled as he tried to sit up. "Why are you hovering over me? Why do I feel like I was hit by a truck? And why am I seeing Scott and Jean? Am I—?"

"Dead?" Bobby finished. "Nah. You're just a little out of the loop."

"I don't understand. I remember going to Egypt, something happened there. Wait, aren't we in Egypt?"

"We're in New York City," Hank answered.

"I don't remember pyramids in New York."

"The city architect kind of got on this Egyptian kick…" Bobby joked.

"Warren," Scott interjected. "You, like me, were a prisoner of Apocalypse. He made the both of us serve him to ultimately give him the ability to rule the world."

"Apocalypse?" Warren's hand moved slowly to his head as flashes of the last few days popped into his mind. He scanned the faces and found the familiar redhead he was looking for. "Jean. I—I remember. Everything."

_"You didn't erase his memories?"_ Scott gently asked.

_"He didn't want me to."_

On some level, even without Jean explaining it to him, Scott understood and respected it. And he knew that Jean had made the same choice—to live with the good memories and the bad. It was a difficult path to take, but it would be one that they wouldn't have to take alone.

"We can get you someplace safe, until we defeat Apocalypse," Scott extended his hand to help Warren to his feet.

The gesture surprised Warren, considering everything that had happened. He had done terrible things as a Horseman of Apocalypse—he had taken innocent lives, both human and mutant. Yet, his family fought for him every step of the way and now extended a familiar hand to help him get back on his feet.

Warren took Scott's hand, needing it more than he initially thought. His limbs here heavy and he felt as if his insides had been stirred with a hot poker. But despite everything else, Warren felt the need to not only redeem himself, but to make sure no one ever had to endure what Warren had faced.

Warren straightened himself up and stood on his own. "No. I can't stay on the sidelines, knowing that twisted lunatic could hurt one of you the way he's hurt me. "

"Bishop, this is Cyclops. We're heading to Apocalypse's pyramid. All five of us," Scott met Warren's gaze, who simply nodded in response.

"Roger. Our comm devices don't work in there, so once you're in, you'll be cut off from us. If the situation changes out here, you can count on us joining you in there. Make sure you keep everyone in one piece until then. Bishop out."

"You heard the man. Let's move out, team."

VIII.

After departing from the rooftop, Ororo maneuvered her team through the streets of the city, avoiding as much contact with the stone warriors as possible. Most of them were simply drudging forward, following their mission with mindless dedication. The main pyramid wasn't far from their rally point, so in a matter of minutes, the team stood at a ground-level entrance to the towering structure.

Ororo led the way in, her trained eyes darting around, searching for any booby traps or surprise ambushes. But as they maneuvered down the long corridor, nothing attacked them. There were no traps. A few cobwebs were splayed here and there, giving Kitty an opportunity to whisper how gross spiders were, but until they reached the main chamber, everything was suspiciously silent.

The wide open room looked like something suitable and limited to the presence of royalty. An exotic garden, filled with thick foliage and vibrant flowers, wove around thick pillars trimmed with gold, lining either side of the chamber. Their boots clacked against the stone floor, echoing off the high walls and vaulted ceiling. Several statues and other treasures were well-placed throughout the chamber as homage to various deities and prominent figures. Torches and another unseen source illuminated the vast expanse of room, creating flickering shadows that danced along the walls.

Despite the artistic allure of the room, Kitty felt uneasy and suspicious of their uneventful progress into the threshold of Apocalypse thus far. "Umm, I don't mean to drag everybody down," she began, "but do you think it was way too easy to get in here? I mean we usually have to go all undercover, and I end up walking through a million walls."

Ororo appreciated Kitty's wit, and in another situation, probably would have laughed at the girl's observation. But right now, Ororo's senses were focused on the figure emerging from the shadows. "It is because we were expected."

"We've got company," Logan confirmed. His hyper sense of smell caught the musty decay of the oncoming person.

The figure stepped into the light confidently, extending his arms out as a gesture of welcome. Despite moving as fluidly as a normal person, his single tone, stone hued appearance told them that somehow, he was something like the stone warriors, a statue brought to life.

"The strong ones," Ozymandias eyed them with an unhealthy interest. "Yes. Though your frail forms tell nothing of your inner strength. You have come just as I predicted. Lord Apocalypse has been expecting your pledge of loyalty to serve as his royal enforcers."

Ororo replied, "Serve Apocalypse? In the same way Warren serves him?"

"Ah, the Horsemen…Death. Yes, the leader. It did take some convincing, but he was remade into the likeness of Lord Apocalypse himself. There is no greater honor. I am sure he sees that now."

"Zat iz vere you are vrong. Ze most loyal are those given a choice, ze concept of free will. Zat iz vhy I serve my Lord vithout hesitation," Kurt responded.

Ozymandias laughed. "Free will? The only will is that of Lord Apocalypse. Any dissenters will be put to death."

"Cut the crap, bub. We're here fer yer boss. Where is he?" Logan growled.

"I strongly suggest you watch your tone, wretched worm. Apocalypse could have killed you from the moment you stepped through that doorway. But he senses the strength within you and offers a place amongst his royal court."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "News flash. We're here to _stop_ the takeover, just in case you didn't get that."

"So, you would knowingly and willingly throw away the opportunity to stay at Lord Apocalypse's side?" Ozymandias' expression darkened. "Foolish dogs! You have sealed your fate by my hands."

Sean ran his fingers through his hair and sighed exasperatedly. "Ach, y' talk too much! Just tell us where the lad is, or we'll go through you and figure it out ourselves."

"Such bold words. Do you think you can stand against my royal warriors?"

Stone warriors, different from those on the streets erupted all around them.

"X-Men! Do not hold back!" Ororo commanded.

Logan extended his claws as the animated warriors charged him from all sides. About eight feet tall, they towered over Logan, but he wasn't in the least bit intimidated. A low growl escaped Logan's lips as he anticipated the first warrior's move. Lashing out, Logan tore through the first one, leaped into the air and decapitated the second, the third fell after a series of well-placed claw swipes, and the fourth and fifth fell after a brief fighting sequence, showing off the military hand-to-hand skills Logan possessed.

Of all the X-Men, Logan was probably the most used to this sort of scenario. Outnumbered, over-powered, and out of his element. Just like he liked it. Logan moved nimbly through the cavern, taking out three more warriors in pure, brute-like fashion.

A warrior as well, Ororo had quite a different approach to dispatching her foes. Combining her elemental control with her fighting prowess, Ororo managed to make fighting beautiful, yet her attacks were unforgiving and fatal for the warriors. Using the elements underground and in a tight chamber proved difficult as control became of the utmost importance. A wind too strong would harm her teammates, but it took a certain amount of force to take out the stone warriors. Taking to the sky, Ororo then rained down lighting bolts on the stone warriors, dispatching them one by one.

Despite their fighting differences, Ororo succeeded in taking out just as many as Logan, with a lot less growling and grunting.

Peter, in his organic steel form, pummeled his opponents with pure strength. Faced from a strike from Peter, the stone warriors crumbled to thousands of pieces before getting off a single strike against him. As focused as he wanted to be on obliterating the warriors, Peter couldn't help stealing glances toward Kitty, only to ensure she was not being overwhelmed.

Of all the X-Men in the fray, Kitty was the weakest. Well aware of her vulnerability, Kitty combined her fighting prowess with clever, agile stunts and well-timed phasing to completely throw off her opponents and get the upper hand. And now, she found that the hand-to-hand combat and armed fighting lessons from Logan paid off. Brandishing one of the stone warrior's swords, Kitty slashed her way though her enemies, displaying a style similar to Logan.

Kurt, taking a cue from Kitty, wielded a sword in each hand, amputating arms and legs to defeat his selected opponents. Using his teleportation to dodge attacks, mask attacks, or use a teleport and drop attack, Kurt made short work of the stone warriors.

Sean was the most hands-off of the X-Men, able to focus his sonic scream to hit one opponent or allow it to travel outward in a radius, completely shattering any stone warriors that came in contact with the highly destructive sound waves.

The X-Men fought effectively, felling the stone warriors without a significant amount of effort.

Ororo took a daunting step forward towards Ozymandias. "Do not play games with us, monster. We shall not ask again—where is Apocalypse?"

A haughty smirk crossed Ozymandias' face as he stepped toward the group, with no sign of retreating or folding. "I am Ozymandias, Lord Apocalypse's most trusted prophet. I shall not let you infidels pass."

His stone eyes began to glow with an ethereal hue, as he raised his hands in the air. Instantly, the whole room erupted in chaos, and everything took a turn for the worst.

Ororo took to the air, generating a strong enough wind current to hold her aloft. She wasn't sure what Ozymandias had in mind, but she readied herself. Out of her right peripheral, she caught a square piece of the wall flying at her. Before she could effectively dodge, she saw that a square piece of the floor, approximately the same size, sped towards her from below. Her eyes darted around, as a feeling of dread overtook her. The square pieces converged on her, and before she even had the chance to scream, they came together, trapping her inside.

Logan felt the ground shake slightly, but it didn't stop him. Baring his teeth and claws, Logan growled and charged Ozymandias. He noticed too late that the ground in front of him shifted and morphed, created a jagged stalagmite that pieced Logan through his midsection.

He only remotely heard Kitty cry out in horror, as the pain overwhelmed all of his senses. The stalagmite kept growing at its odd angle, carrying Logan into the air, leaving behind a healthy trail of blood.

Peter felt a slight shift underneath his feet, which quickly turned into a tremor. He stumbled, suddenly jarred by his rapid ascension. Peter saw that the ground around him was taking him straight into the air toward the ceiling. Though he remembered that the ceiling was high, Peter knew he had little time, but his natural reaction was to glance upward. Above him, the a section of the ceiling, which seemed to be the same size as the floor he was standing on, was speeding towards him.

_It's going to crush me,_ Peter figured. He was much too high in the air to simply jump down, and his leg would probably be caught in-between the two masses. Lifting his arms, Peter caught the ceiling in his hands, while pushing down with his legs. So far, he was matching the masses' force, keeping himself from being crushed. But only after a few moments, the pressure increased, and Peter knew that it would only be a matter of minutes before he was crushed.

Kitty screamed. She couldn't believe that everything was happening so fast, in comparison to the earlier attack by the stone warriors. And she saw that all of them were being overwhelmed by Ozymandias' well-orchestrated onslaught. His plan seemed simple—take all of them out singularly and simultaneously.

However, Kitty also quickly figured that the two of them posed the most threat to Ozymandias' plan. With Kurt's teleportation and her phasing ability, none of Ozymandias' physical attacks would work against them. He probably hoped to simply preoccupy them while the rest of their teammates suffered. And that would prove to be his fatal flaw.

Kitty processed this in fractions of a second, but before she could react to help any of her teammates, she found herself encircled by more stone warriors.

She took a retreating step, suddenly feeling Kurt at her back. As the screams and grunts of her teammates surrounded her, Kitty only felt the slightest solace being back-to-back with Kurt. The stone warriors hadn't moved closer to them, yet they didn't seem as though they would let them pass without a fight.

Kurt, sensing her apprehension whispered, "Do not worry, Katzchen. The Lord gives us strength. Ve vill not fail."

Kitty steadied her voice, despite the anguish she was feeling, knowing that everyone was suffering. "Should we try to take out Ozymandias then?"

"Family always comes first."

In that instant, Bishop's words came flooding back to her—especially the part about people caring about her. Because now, at the thought of losing any of them, Kitty was willing to do anything to keep them safe because she wanted to continue the rest of her life with them in it. Especially Peter. Ororo sheltered them because she wanted to protect them from madmen like Ozymandias, who would take their lives without a second thought. But Ororo had trained them not to beat people like him, but to protect those they cared about.

Determined, Kitty stated, "I've got Wolverine and Storm. Colossus can help with Banshee."

"Understood. Time is of the essence."

"Let's go, Elf."

Kitty charged at the stone warriors as if she was going to engage them in battle. She waited until the last possible second after they swung at her to turn intangible. Behind her, she heard a _bamf_, the sound that accompanied Kurt's teleportation. Kitty took a sharp turn, much to Ozymandias' surprise and made a dashed toward and up the jagged stalagmite that impaled Logan . Thankful for the dance lessons that improved her balance, she made it to Logan with ease. Taking his hand, she concentrated on only his body mass as they both turned intangible, sinking through the stalagmite and carefully floating to the ground.

Though various chunks of rocks flew at them, they passed through Kitty and Logan as if they were ghosts. Once they were settled on the ground, Kitty risked turning them to a solid physical state, realizing that Logan 's healing factor probably wouldn't work while he was phased.

"Come on, Logan. I need you to breathe," Kitty kneeled next to him, ensuring she stayed in physical contact with him in case she needed to quickly phase them.

Logan gave a barely audible grunt as his healing factor began to kick in. Kitty glanced up to see Kurt appear next to Peter, and in the next instant, they had disappeared, leaving behind a purple, hazy cloud. The pillars crashed together, cracking from the sheer force. It was then that she observed how strong Peter was. And how relieved she felt after Kurt saved him.

Kurt and Peter materialized next to Sean, who was writhing on the ground, clawing desperately at the clay mask affixed to his head. Though slightly disoriented from Kurt's rescue and slightly weak, Peter kneeled next to Sean. "Hold still. This may hurt just a little," he grabbed both sides of the mask and pulled outward, cracking it in half. Peter threw the pieces to the side as Sean gulped in breaths of glorious air. His blue face began to return to its natural color, but Peter didn't have time to continue to check on his teammate as the stone warriors charged at them.

"Go, kid," Logan grunted as he stumbled to his feet. Kitty helped him stand, giving him support then saw a broadsword coming down on them. Without a thought, Kitty turned them intangible, once again avoiding a debilitating attack.

"I can't leave you alone, not while you're still healing. But Storm's still in trouble! She's probably suffocating in there!" Kitty said.

"Not for long," Logan observed. Kitty turned to see snakes of lightning dance around the outside of the cube. The air was filled with electricity as the cube exploded suddenly. Ororo floated in the air, as lightning illuminated her frame, and growls of thunder matched her dark expression. Gusts of wind whipped her snow white air and uniform, as her clouded eyes narrowed at Ozymandias.

"Do you know what happens to organic rock when it is struck by lightning?"

"Do tell, child."

"Let experience be your teacher," Ororo replied as lightning poured from her fingertips. The bolts danced through the air until they found their target, immediately cascading through Ozymandias' body, sending shocks coursing through every limb repeatedly. His mouth opened to scream, but his vocal cords were frozen by the electricity rebounding through his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body began to spasm.

Only when Ororo dissipated the lightning did Ozymandias' body collapse, burnt out and lifeless. For a moment, Ozymandias looked like nothing more than a weathered statue. Then, his form simply began to dissipate, his form taken by a small gust of wind.

Across the entire city, the stone warriors that had ravaged and pursued the populace suddenly stopped. No matter what position they were in, each stone warrior simply froze, the fire of purpose suddenly extinguished. For a moment, the stone warriors were simply mighty statues, hulking and foreboding, a recreation from a time long since past.

Then, like ash in the wind, they simply blew away.

Ororo and her team witnessed the fate of the few stone warriors left within the chamber of the pyramid, succumbing to the fatal erosion of being lifeless.

"'Ro, you good?" Logan asked. They locked eyes for a moment, and Logan thought he saw a hint of regret in her blue eyes. But it was quickly replaced by the fire of determination, the look of a leader.

"We must continue on. The final battle looms on the horizon. Do not hesitate for a moment, for the lives of the people we seek to protect are at stake." Ororo looked toward the entrance and saw five, not four, of leather-clad X-Men charge into the chamber. Cyclops, Phoenix, Beast, Iceman, _and_ Angel. "By the Goddess! Warren!"

But before anyone could say anything else, the floor buckled underneath them and then caved in, sending them pummeling down to a hidden chamber underneath.

As the dust cleared, they saw Apocalypse sitting on his throne, flanked by Lorna and Shiro.

Apocalypse's voice was deep, almost hypnotic. But his words were powerful, as if anything he said was set in stone. "Welcome, X-Men. Now prepare to die."

Notes:

For those that read Chapter 18 before, a new part, Section V has been added. It explains what is going on from Professor Xavier's perspective and provides a little more insight into some of the other characters.

Fans of Generation X should recognize Tracy Authier, the thief that broke into the school and stole sentimental items from Jubilee, Angelo, and Paige.

Dark Lord Gogen: Thank you for the compliments. Josh Foley was in the more recent issues of New X-Men, serving as the next generation of X-Men. He's currently making an appearance in X-Force as well.

Babyjay2fly: I'm glad that you like the story so far. Hopefully, you'll see Storm continue to develop as a leader and character in the next few chapters. I'm kind of a Gambit and Rogue fan, so you can see even from this chapter that there are definitely a few sparks. Unfortunately, Josh can only heal physical wounds. But as you can see, Jean is more than capable of taking care of the mental healing of those under Apocalypse's control. I didn't update REALLY, REALLY soon, but hopefully, you still check out this chapter.

1992WhitePhoenixOfTheCrown: Let me know what you think of this latest installment.

Gambitfan85: Definitely a little more ROMY in here for you. And definitely more fight scenes. And don't worry, there are more on the way.

Ratdogtwo: You have been my reviewer for a long time now! Thanks for sticking with my stories. I'm doing my best to keep up the good work. Keep letting me know how I'm doing.

RR: The sparks are flying. Thanks for the review.

Dark: It's not soon, but I updated. Hope you get the chance to check out this chapter as well.

Pyrowhore: Yes, there's definitely a lot going on. But it's all coming together now.


	20. Chapter 20

I.

The overcast sky grew darker as the first responders maneuvered through the altered streets and facilities of New York City, providing aid and policing evacuation routes. The citizens were uncharacteristically orderly and peaceful, considering the city had become a battleground and an elevated Danger Zone. Some had been seriously hurt by the stone warriors, but they all recognized that the presence of the X-Men, Spiderman, and the Fantastic Four had lessened the collateral damage.

Every news channel possible was within the city limits, reporting on the chaos from before and trying to get close to the large pyramid in the middle of the city. But electrical equipment ceased to function anytime they came within a two hundred feet of it. Though ambitious and energetic, none of the reporters dared venture any closer than that.

Near the pyramid, the heroes of the day convened, unbothered by reporters thanks to an invisible shield, courtesy of the Invisible Woman. Bishop briefly explained the background of the current situation to Spiderman and the Fantastic Four, now that they actually had time to listen. Rogue and Remy filled in some of the smaller gaps where appropriate, and when all was said and done, everyone understood that it was quite possible that the final battle was at hand.

"We've lost communication with the other two teams, which means that they've probably entered the pyramid already," Bishop stated. He checked his radio one more time, but an eerie silence was all he heard.

"We could go with you," Sue offered, catching the agreeing nod from Reed out of the corner of her eye.

Bishop shook his head, declining the offer politely. "The first responders need help out here. You guys are trusted faces…they need your help. Besides, if something happens in there, I want there to be someone out here that can stop whatever comes out of that pyramid."

"Let's just hope you guys don't fail," Johnny said.

Emma quipped, "Failure isn't an option for us, though it may be a standing element in your life."

Johnny felt his face grow hot, despite being surrounded by flames. "Hey, lady, we've saved the world a time or two ourselves. You guys weren't around when a planet-devouring freak came to make the Earth his afternoon snack. If you had been, I think I would've tried to feed you to it as an appetizer."

"Johnny," Reed warned. He shook Bishop's hand and said, "Come out alive. I would like our paths to cross again. And if you ever need help, we're one call away."

"I carry a cell phone too, you know," Spiderman interjected.

Michael cocked an eyebrow. "I can't imagine where in that tight spandex uniform."

"Whatever, No-Name X-Kid."

"Same to you, Spiderboy."

"Man."

"Boy."

"Man."

"Now, children," Emma had an edge of warning in her voice. "This isn't the time for senseless bickering, so knock it off."

Like an embittered child, Spiderman quietly shot, "He started it."

Bishop nodded to his teammates. "It's time. I don't know what we're going to face in there, so everyone needs to be ready for anything. Let's move out."

With that, Bishop' team of X-Men charged the pyramid, hoping that they weren't too late to save their teammates and ultimately, the world.

II.

Fifty feet below the ground floor of the largest pyramid stood two teams of X-Men, face-to-face with the mastermind behind the recent string of nefarious events. Apocalypse, a name that he must have chosen for himself, smiled at the X-Men, regarding them as almost lesser beings, yet maintaining a certain level of unhealthy interest. His soul-piercing gaze sent chills down their spine.

The sub-chamber reeked of decay and mold, centuries-old bones, and thick dust now stirred by their presence. But the tension in the air was much thicker and solid than any ancient dirt or remains, as the X-Men and Apocalypse, flanked by his last two remaining Horsemen, stood on opposite sides.

"Long have I waited for this day, when the strong rise and rule this world. However, you have soundly defeated both Sinister and Ozymandias, proving to me that you would rather die by my hand than rule at my side."

While Apocalypse droned on, Scott was already analyzing the room, sizing up their opponents, as well as determining the best strategy to use against them. He could see the situation play out several different ways, and none of them involved them losing. They had the numbers. They had the strength. They had the will.

"No one is dying today, Apocalypse," Scott stated. He stepped forward, taking on the spokesperson role of the team, hoping that by some slight chance, he could talk Apocalypse down. "These powers aren't for enslaving those that can't fight back. That's tyranny, not natural selection."

Apocalypse chuckled then burst into a hearty laugh that it resounded throughout the chamber with a hard, metallic edge. "We shall see if you are willing to die for your ideals, children. Horsemen, do not leave a single one alive."

"With pleasure, Lord Apocalypse!" Shiro said as his flames flared.

"Storm, cover!" Scott shouted as he let a crimson energy beam tear from his eyes. The beam was easily deflected by Apocalypse, while Shiro and Lorna rushed in to do their master's bidding.

As Ororo's eyes clouded over, she held her hands to the side and rose into the air, a thick veil of mist suddenly enveloping the room.

"Weather witch! I'll burn your bones to ash!" Shiro spat as he soared toward her, his entire body enveloped in flames.

Ororo's attention turned to the oncoming threat. "Fool! The winds you ride upon are mine to command!" Ororo shot one hand in the air and instantly a whirlwind surrounded Shiro, throwing him off balance. "Wolverine!"

"Two steps ahead o' ya, darlin'. Colossus, I need a fastball special, now!"

Peter watched attentively as Logan leaped at him feet first. Timing it perfectly, Peter let both Logan's feet land in his palm as his arm pulled back, shifting Logan's momentum without throwing them off balance. With a mighty grunt, Peter hurled Logan—and at the same time, Logan leaped forward—then Logan was soaring through the air with an amazing speed.

"Parlor tricks are nothing to me!" Shiro said as he dove down into the whirlwind, Logan sailing right past him.

Reacting instinctively, Kurt disappeared from Kitty's side, appeared under Logan, grabbed his belt, disappeared in a cloud of hazy, purple smoke, and reappeared underneath Shiro. Kurt released Logan, as he sailed upwards, no momentum lost. Logan's elbow connected with Shiro's jaw with a sickening _crack_.

"This ain't no parlor trick, bub," Logan said as Shiro tumbled to the ground. Ororo used the wind to soften Shiro's fall but not too much, while a much stronger wind lowered Logan to the ground. Logan unsheathed his claws, ready for Shiro to get back up.

Coughing, Shiro rose to one knee, and eying Logan, he said, "Let's see how much you talk, X-Man, when your body begins to eat itself."

Logan lunged forward but then suddenly stopped in his tracks. An intense feeling of hunger swept over him then gripped his entire body. His muscles began to twitch, his mouth began to over-salivate, and he suddenly felt weak. Logan stumbled forward, barely able to stand as the hunger gripped him, and he then could feel his body feeding on itself.

The visible change in Logan was dramatic and almost instantaneous as his body seemed to draw into itself. His face grew thin, while his skin paled to a sickly complexion. Then his body seemed to wither away within a matter of seconds, leaving behind an emaciated shell.

"Yes!" Shiro watched gleefully as Logan fell to one knee. "I am Famine, Horseman of Apocalypse. Let's see how you fare against my true power." Shiro could feel his own energy soaring, thanks to absorbing Logan's.

"Hiya!" Kitty screamed as she planted a solid spinning roundhouse to the back of Shiro's head. As he stumbled forward, Kitty turned back intangible and said, "I am Shadowcat, X-Man. I just kicked your butt. Questions?"

While Shiro reeled from the attack, Kurt appeared next to Logan and in the next second, they were gone. Shiro glanced around for his victim, but Logan was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned a furious eye towards the translucent image of Kitty.

"Begone!" Shiro angrily screamed as he cast a wild barrage of flames in Kitty's direction.

"So lame," Kitty said as the flames simply went through her.

At the same time, Sean positioned himself in front of Shiro. "Ye might want t' cover yuir ears," Sean warned as he took in a deep breath. Exhaling, Sean let his mutated vocal chords rip, an explosive wail emanating from his mouth. The baritone sound tore through the room, the brunt of the force hitting Shiro squarely in the chest. Taken by surprise, Shiro was knocked back several feet, landing on the other side of Kitty, unconscious.

"Banshee, look out!" Kitty warned.

Sean, unaware of any danger, reacted too slowly, feeling the frigid touch snaking around his neck far too late to do anything to save himself. Sean's eyes went wide as the grip tightened, and immediately, his hands shot up to loosen it. Sean turned slowly to find that Apocalypse had intervened, a swarm of snake-like cords whipping out of his forearms.

"Clever, but futile," Apocalypse gloated as he mercilessly flung Sean across the room. He hit the side of the chamber hard then fell to the ground, unmoving. Moving fluidly, Apocalypse then wrapped the tentacles around Peter's right ankle then snatched him up into the air.

"Peter!" Kitty screamed as he was slammed into the ground repeatedly.

"Phoenix!" Scott prompted as a precise optic blast sliced the tentacle in two. Jean responded by gently wrapping her thoughts around Peter and lowered him to the ground out of Apocalypse's immediate reach.

"Imprudent—arrghh!!!" Apocalypse screamed as lightning tore through him, courtesy of Ororo.

"You now face the wrath of nature. Let's see how long you can withstand her might!" Ororo shouted, as the lightning continued to surge through her. She directed every bit of it at Apocalypse, increasing its intensity every few seconds. Ororo knew that she was using leathal force, but at this point, they had no choice. Apocalypse and his horsemen had already shown that they were willing to inflict mortal wounds.

As lightning cascaded around a screaming, writhing Apocalypse, Scott barked out concise orders, thankful for Ororo's timely intervention. "Shadowcat, grab Banshee, get him to safety. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, I need you both back in the fight. Iceman, Warren take care of Lorna. Beast, go with Shadowcat and grab Colossus. I want any wounded tended to immediately."

His team obeyed like a well-oiled machine, moving quickly and stealthily, following Scott's orders without question. Like him, they realized the gravity of a loss here, and there was no place here for pride or petty rivalries. They were a team, and now more than ever, they had to be one.

"Don't worry about me, bub," Logan and Kurt dropped from above, Kurt having teleported him above Scott's head. "I'm jus' gettin' started." With a _snikt_, Wolverine's claws popped out and a low growl escaped his lips.

In front of them, Lorna hovered overheard, a myriad of metal objects swirling about her as a green energy aura surrounded her. "Do not underestimate me, X-Fools! I am Pestilence. But my abilities as the Mistress of Magnetism will take care of you."

As if on cue, Bobby rode in on an ice slide, taking a wide loop around Lorna. "Reality check. We've fought Magneto and won. And you're definitely no Magneto," he said as he used one hand to shoot a focused ice beam at Lorna. He hoped to simply knock her off balance and let Warren subdue her, but his attack wasn't aggressive enough and she quickly moved a metal plate to shield her from the attack.

With a faint flick of her wrist, more metal plates shot out and whizzed by Bobby.

"What the hell?!?" Bobby exclaimed, but realized too late what happened. The metal plates quickly chipped away at his ice slide and the next thing he knew, Bobby was falling. Throwing up a hand, Bobby smiled as he felt another grab his and he began to soar through the air.

"How'd you know I'd be there?" Warren asked.

"We wouldn't be a team if you weren't."

Scott shot a blast toward Lorna while Logan and Kurt charged at her. Lorna saw the attacks coming, and without much effort redirected several pieces of metal to subdue her targets. Steel bars snaked around Warren's lithe body as if alive, twining around him and his wings, as well as pinning Bobby's arms to his sides. They both cried out briefly before they pummeled to the ground.

Lorna waved her hand, sensing the metal within Logan's body, and slammed him against the wall.

"Feel blessed by Apocalypse that you will die at my hand," Lorna smiled cruelly. With a flick of her wrist, the steel spikes that danced around Lorna came alive, and shot directly towards Scott and Kurt.

"Some of us have already died for our cause. Today, no one dies," Jean held out her hand feeling every spike as it hurdled toward them. Applying a gentle force, a mere fraction of her power, the spikes stopped in mid-air and floated for a moment before clanging to the ground. Jean brought her hand to her head and entered Lorna's mind, surprised at how easy it was to break Apocalypse's hold on her. Lorna tumbled from the sky, but a freed Warren, thanks to Logan, soared through the air and caught her.

"Archangel, evacuate with Lorna," Scott commanded, and Warren flapped his wings once and took off in the same direction as Hank and Kitty.

Now noticing the cascading energy, Scott turned his full attention to Apocalypse. It was then that he saw the building energy between him and Ororo, and realized that her lightning wasn't hurting him anymore. It was feeding him! Noticing Apocalypse's triumphant grin, Scott shouted a warning too late as the building energy exploded in an outward radius.

Jean grabbed Scott's arm as they were blown back then found themselves falling into an unseen chasm. The rest of the X-Men were blasted against the wall with such force that most left behind man-sized dents, their uniforms the only thing protecting them from having every bone in their body shattered.

"You have entertained me long enough," Apocalypse said. "X-Men, you are defeated."

"Not so fast, luv."

Apocalypse turned a curious eye toward the voice and found another group of X-Men, facing off against him.

"You haven't defeated all of the X-Men," Bishop said, pulling out his plasma pistols.

"Then come, X-Men. I shall make your deaths quick."

"Quick…I don't think that'll be fast enough," Michael launched toward Apocalypse.

"Michael, wait!" Bishop warned.

"No time," Michael called back as he sped toward Apocalypse. Big and slow. It wasn't a surprising combination, but Michael thought only for a second that he could have underestimated Apocalypse. But there was no way. Michael was fast—much faster than such a lumbering idiot. Surely, even if he turned on Michael, Michael would dodge and be covered by one of the other X-Men.

Apocalypse whipped out tentacles and swung them recklessly, and just like Michael thought, he was much too fast and the attack missed him by a long-shot. _Now, I'll just get inside and—_

A piercing pain stopped Michael in his tracks, and his body suddenly went cold. Warm, thick liquid filled his mouth as he glanced down and found several blade points jutting out of his chest. Stunned, he realized that he had simply gone at Apocalypse linearly, not realizing that his back was completely open and vulnerable. _He must have redirected the tentacle attack, turning them into blades and…_

Another surge of pain tore through Michael's body as he felt himself being picked up. Held over Apocalypse's head, Michael could only remotely hear Bishop shouting orders as Apocalypse laughed.

"You too will end up like this weak, foolish child. You X-Men are many millennia too young to face me in battle." Apocalypse tossed Michael's body at Rogue, who caught him as Betsy, Gambit, Jubilee, Alex, Sage, and Bishop charged in for an attack.

Rogue wasted no time in flying toward the back of the cavern to where Josh Foley was. "Ah don't think he's breathin'," Rogue's words came out breathy and emotional. When she set Michael on the ground, she noticed that blood had gotten on her gloves. "He's bleedin' real bad," she said, fighting back tears.

"I'm going to try to help. I don't know if I can," Josh Foley kneeled next to Michael, already concerned about the amount of blood pooled around him. He leaned in close to hear if he was still breathing. Though raspy, Michael was struggling for air. He was still alive!

Rogue felt a glimmer of hope, but then she heard the commotion behind her and realized she couldn't stay. "Please, do whatever ya can," Rogue turned, wiped the back of her glove across her eyes, and soared into battle, the image of Michael's limp body clear in her mind.

"Michael, hold on," Josh said. He could feel his heart racing and his palms begin to sweat, but he couldn't give in to trepidation. He had a life to save. And he didn't have long to do it.

Josh placed his hands over the wound, ignoring the warm and sticky blood seeping onto his hands. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Josh concentrated. He focused on what he could psionically discern about the wound, what organs were damaged, and how badly they were damaged. After discerning the severely of the wound, his mind shifted to the repair process.

He could feel each molecule in Michael's body, and every cell that was needed in order to enable Josh to heal him. Everything around them vanished, and Josh was concentrated on creating new cells, which turned into specific parts of organs, which replaced the damaged parts. A golden light radiated from not only his hands, but his entire body, which spread to Michael, completing the healing process.

Michael sprang to a sitting position, startled and confused. "What happened? Where? No…Apocalypse, he—" Michael glanced down at his midsection and saw several holes in his uniform. But underneath, the skin was smooth and untouched. There was no blood. No pain.

"I was—how?" he then saw Josh crouched next him. "You—you saved me."

"Don't worry about it…I owed you from the airport," Josh's eyes fluttered and he pitched forward. Michael barely caught him, laying him on the ground. Feeling slightly woozy, Josh managed a smile, "Guess that took a little more out of me than I thought."

"I can't leave the team…not now."

"I'll be fine here. Don't let Apocalypse win."

Michael nodded, his heart still pounding as he remembered the pain and fear of dying. But he pushed those aside, knowing that he still had to fight—if for no other reason, to ensure that Apocalypse would never kill again.

Rising to his feet, Michael sped back into the fight, and zooming past his teammates, leaped in the air, flipped feet first, and panted both heels in Apocalypse's face. Rebounding off his face, Michael leaped backwards and landed on the ground, balanced on one knee and one hand.

Apocalypse's head snapped back into place, and his dislocated jaw melted back into place.

"You're okay?!?" Jubilee said from her place next to Michael.

"Yeah. No thanks to that guy."

Apocalypse seemed surprised to see Michael again. "Persistent, aren't you, child? This time, I shall tear you limb from limb and ensure your death."

"Over my dead body," Ororo shot an icy wind covered the floor directly under Apocalypse with ice.

She had recovered moments after Michael had been stabbed, an internal maternal instinct having jarred her from unconsciousness. On a deep level, she felt as though Michael was in mortal danger, but when she saw him kick Apocalypse in the face, she thanked the goddess when Michael wasn't hurt. But she couldn't chance something happening to him, so brushing off her disorientation, Ororo vowed to protect him no matter what the cost.

At the same time, Ororo pelted him with an isolated shower of tennis ball sized hail. Taking a cue, Remy whipped out a handful of cards, blasting Apocalypse from head to foot. Jubilee joined in as she let fireworks rip from her hands, all exploding around Apocalypse. Alex pointed his fists at Apocalypse and bombarded him with plasma blasts. Bishop joined in, firing at Apocalypse's chest, hoping to break through his armor.

"Bishop, fire one inch up and a quarter of to the right of his breastplate. It's his weak point," Sage shouted. "Then order everyone to withdraw. I can't explain right now, just do it."

Bishop quickly readjusted his aim and found the spot Sage referred to, even through the exploding, luminous energies surrounding Apocalypse. He fired and a cry from Apocalypse, signaling that he had hit his mark. Apocalypse staggered, the breastplate of his armor broken, and Bishop, though uneasy about it, called for everyone to withdraw.

Surprised, but knowing there was a plan in store, they pulled back.

III.

Jean hit the ground before either she could even begin scream. Usually, she would have automatically enveloped the both of them in a telekinetic shield, but the attack was so sudden and powerful, that she was simply caught off-guard, a rare thing to happen to a telepath.

Coughing and trying to regain her breath, Jean did a quick physical check. _A few bruises…no cracked ribs or bones,_ she thankfully concluded. Glancing back up, Jean estimated that they had fallen at least twenty feet and was grateful that a few bruises were all she had. Jean gingerly rose to her feet and found Scott stirring a few feet away from her.

"Scott, are you okay?" Jean asked, though she already knew the answer. She had already scanned him as well and found that he was bruised, but nothing more.

Scott sat up stiffly and surveyed the cavern. "Yeah. I think so. Where are we…some kind of secret room?" About ten feet by ten feet, the room was pretty bare. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust covered the floor and anything with a horizontal surface. The one thing that caught Scott's eye was a display on the wall opposite them—an odd spear mounted to the wall. Unlike everything else, it wasn't dusty, as if it had been recently placed there. But aside from the hole, there was no other way in or out of the room.

"Looks like it. But I can feel something strange in here. It's almost like we were meant to be here—" Jean cut her sentence short as the spear began to glow, a warm glow shining from somewhere deep within the weapon. "It's calling us," Jean ominously said.

Scott's trepidation cut through the pain racking his body and he stood along with Jean, both their eyes transfixed on the glowing spear. "Calling us?" Scott repeated, unsure if Jean's statement was positive or negative.

"Someone's put a psychically imprinted message in it. Only a high-level psi would be able to detect it," she explained. Jean held out her hand and focused her telepathy, combined with a fragment of the Phoenix force to create a three-dimensional image of the message.

A tall, gray-haired figure appeared, staring at them with a grim expression that immediately reminded Jean of Scott. His glowing left eye, metallic shine of his left arm and hand, muscular frame, and rugged appearance told Jean that this man had seen more than his fair share of battle throughout his life. But despite everything that didn't seem familiar about the man, Jean felt like she should have known exactly who he was. Yet, it eluded her.

"There isn't much time," the man said. "If you're here, that means Apocalypse has returned. It's detrimental to the future that you stop him here and now. Defeat would mean slavery and death for both humans and mutants alike. This Psimitar was specially created to defeat Apocalypse, since he's imperious to every other type of weapon. Cyclops and Phoenix—Scott and Jean—you gave me a chance in my future, now I'll give you a chance to change that future."

Scott asked, "Wait, how do you know us?"

Jean shook her head. "It's only an imprinted message, not an actual telepathic communication. But, he must have known that we would find this."

"I'm Cable. Remember the name," the man finished. His image faded then disappeared completely, leaving the cavern deathly silent.

"Cable," Scott repeated. Embedding the man's face in his memory, he turned to Jean. "We've got to get back to the others." Scott took a step forward and grabbed the Psimitar, instantly feeling a power surge through him.

Knowing that time of the essence, Jean kept her questions at bay, and instead spread her arms, enveloping them both in the Phoenix corona. "Do you think this weapon will work?"

"It has to. Cable said so," Scott said, unbelievably confident in the stranger's words. He couldn't explain it, but there was just something about Cable that Scott found familiar. And that's why he had no doubt that Cable's words were true.

Jean floated them out of the hole and hovered there for a moment, seeing Apocalypse staggering as Bishop's team pulled back.

"Now!" Sage shouted as if she already knew what they were planning to do.

Feeling a warm light washing over him, Apocalypse turned and immediately, his blood went cold. "The firebird," he mumbled. His mind instantly went back to the prophecy Ozymandias had revealed. _Behold, at first sight of the firebird of the cosmos that wields the mind staff of future ages, death will befall the great Apocalypse._

Scott flipped the Psimitar in his hands, drew it back then with all his might, hurled it toward Apocalypse. Jean closed her eyes and telekinetically guided the Psimitar while imbuing it with the power of the Phoenix. It sailed noiselessly through the air and hit its mark with a sickening _thunk_, sinking deep into the center of Apocalypse's chest.

Losing control of his functions, Apocalypse tried to grasp the Psimitar, but his hands and arms wouldn't cooperate as he began to flail wildly about. His body began to melt as his mind began to fry. "No! I am the strongest…I cannot be defeated!" As Apocalypse's corporeal form turned into a puddle of nothing, his mind completely released his psyche, as it dissipated into the atmosphere.

Epilogue.

"Some of us have seen first hand the consequences of a good person corrupted by power," Charles Xavier scanned his ethics class, making subtle eye contact with Kitty Pryde, Michael Mjnari, and Bobby Drake. They met his eyes for a second then continued to take notes as Charles continued, "That is why we must strive to harness the power we possess for the greater good of all humanity."

Charles scanned the students, watching as some scribbled furiously in their notebooks, while others sat in rapt attention. Of course, there were the few that weren't paying attention, like Angelo Espinoza, who was seconds from falling asleep.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Apocalypse and everything seemed back to normal. There had been quite a few meetings with the faculty and students to explain his presence, as well as Scott's and Jean's. Still, things had settled down, classes had resumed, and once again, the world was a safer place. Hopefully.

A raised hand caught his attention. It was Kitty.

"Professor," she began, "what happens to those that cross that line between helping and hurting? People whose power is so great that its very existence threatens that balance?"

"Good question, Kitty," Charles commended her, glad that she had brought up a question that hit close to home. Too close. "Let's open this up for a class discussion. Would anyone care to comment on Kitty's question?"

Another raised hand—that of Quentin Quire—waved in the air only for a brief moment before he replied. "If they're that dangerous shouldn't they just be gotten rid of?" He was immediately bombarded with voices of dissention, but after a silencing wave from Charles quieted the other students, he continued. "Or maybe they're powerful for a reason. Isn't that the point of mutation to ensure the survival of a species? Take a look at society. In every aspect, the strongest entity is rewarded with leadership of and superiority over the others. Isn't this the same thing?"

Kitty felt her cheeks flush with anger, and she knew that her emotions were getting the better of her, but Quentin's obnoxious, idiotic rhetoric had to be addressed. Without raising her hand, she shot, "Apples and oranges, dweeb."

"Kitty," Charles warned in a fatherly manner.

"Sorry, Professor. But seriously, we're talking about human lives here. Regardless of power, no one has the right or authority to kill mercilessly only to establish some sort of hierarchy based on your interpretation of strength."

Monet St. Croix added, "I agree with Katherine. If someone suddenly decided that intelligence was a true measure of strength, you would be the first to be disposed of, Quentin, which would not be tragedy by any means. However, survival of the fittest would simply be an arbitrary claim made by the holder of the coveted trait."

"Like who is on translator duty for Ms. Know-It-All? Angelo? Paige?" Jubilee said from the back row.

"Ah'm not touchin' this one," Paige Guthrie grinned.

Angelo Espinosa, who had snapped his head up once Kitty's elevated voice reached his ears, waved his hands as if to ward Jubilee off. "Leave me out of it too. I was lost two seconds after class started."

Michael laughed then said, "Let's put it this way: would you think it was right for Monet to say that anyone who wasn't as perfect as her should be put to death?" Michael asked.

A few students chuckled.

"That's stupid," Quentin spat.

"Well, so is an assertion that the strongest mutants should rule over everyone else," Bobby countered.

Michael added, "Or kill anyone else for that matter. Think about it. Racism, sexism, and religious intolerance all have the exact same thought processes behind it. But just because there are people out there that think it, that doesn't make it right."

Kitty added, "And no one has the right to hurt or kill in the name of establishing a certain groups' superiority."

Quentin, feeling his face grow hot, challenged, "That's not what Magneto believed, is it, Professor?" Quentin challenged.

The class grew silent, most knowing of the complicated relationship between Magneto and the Professor. Most knew about the incident on Ellis Island and Magneto's involvement in the Alkali Lake incident. Both were touchy subjects, so most students steered away from asking about them in class. But not Quentin.

Charles, recalling both incidents, answered, "No. He believes that mutants should rule as the stronger species. And there are several mutants out there that hold the same belief. But for all those that want to subvert and harm those less powerful, there are just people who will ensure that the balance is maintained."

He scanned the classroom, only stopping for an abbreviated second on Michael, Kitty, and Bobby, acknowledging that they were a part of the solution.

"For those people that have tremendous abilities, they have the freedom of choice, just as anyone else does. They can use those abilities for the sake of furthering mankind, or they may turn and use them to subvert and terrorize others. It is an ethical decision—a responsibility—that we must deal with everyday. I pray that you continue to make the choice to further mankind with your unique abilities and protect those that cannot protect themselves. We will continue tomorrow. Class dismissed."

X.

Staring out of his office window, Charles said, "Much has happened, and I fear that the worst is still yet to come. And somehow, I don't know if I'll be able to protect any of you."

Emma Frost leaned against one of the bookcases and waited a full minute before replying. "We're not children, Charles. It's not your job to protect us. You've showed us that there's a better way. And it's up to us to keep that dream alive. Sometimes, pursuing a dream can be costly. But if in the end, we make things better for future generations, it can be seen as a needed sacrifice."

Charles turned back to Emma, meeting her gaze. "That doesn't make it any easier. We were lucky with Jean and Scott."

"I don't put much stake in luck. As much as I dislike them, I respect them. Your X-Men will go toe-to-toe with death on any given day and come out on top. But that's because of the faith and trust you have in them and they have in you. Jean and Scott, they're your two star students…they're the epitome of your dream. Death won't come easy for either one of them. Actually, for none of us. So maybe you should try to get some sleep. Tomorrow's another day, and another chance to get it right. Besides, I think one of your star pupils needs a little pep talk," Emma said as she sauntered out of the room, and right past Ororo Munroe.

Charles smiled as Ororo entered the room, but she didn't return his smile. Grim, she sat down and locked her blue eyes with his. "I can no longer be the headmistress of this school."

The words stunned Charles, and for just a moment, he didn't know what to say. "Ororo," he began then stopped. "I thought I was invincible. I thought I had all the answers, but I was wrong. And I paid for it. Dearly. And my students—all of you—suffered because of my own vanity. There's nothing I can say to change the past. Jean. Scott. It made me realize that despite the immense powers we wield, we are still human. We're prone to doubt, frustration, mistrust, and anger. But with that, we can also love, hope, forgive, and believe. And that's what I see in you, Ororo."

She shifted in her seat, "With Scott returning, I figured—"

Charles held up a silencing hand. "You're an irreplaceable foundation of the school and the X-Men. Ororo, I would be honored if you would continue to lead the X-Men alongside Scott, and be my eyes and ears beyond these walls. So much is changing out there, and I'm afraid that in my older age, I'm losing touch with that. You're a natural leader, a strong fighter, and a role model for our students. There's no one else that I would entrust this school to."

"Charles," she said as she leaned across the desk and hugged him, feeling confident that everything would be fine from now on.

X.

Deep in the subbasement of the Xavier School for gifted youngsters, seven individuals made their way to what was affectionately known as the Danger Room. Wearing black leather uniforms, each altered slightly to reflect the wearer's personality, they strode confidently into the room, mentally preparing themselves for the training battle ahead.

Scott stole a glance toward Jean, who gave him a mental wink. Ororo breathed deeply, locking her concentration onto her weather manipulation abilities. Kurt stretched his lithe body and tail, excited for the chance to display his amazing acrobatic skills. Peter smiled as the anticipation of physical combat raised his adrenaline. Logan extended his claws, ready for some long-overdue action. And Peter flexed his muscles, ready to take out a few opponents with a mix of strength and agility.

But when as soon as they crossed the threshold and the door closed behind them, they stopped.

"There is no way you guys were like planning on starting without us, right?" Jubilee blew a bubble and popped it, sucking the gum back into her mouth.

"Forge, hold off on the training program," Scott directed. He scanned the figures standing on the opposite side of the Danger Room, clothed in outfits similar to the X-Men leathers, but varied enough to have their own distinct look, reflecting an aspect of the owner's personality, much like their own uniforms. "What are all of you doing here?"

Bobby stepped forward. "Angel, Rogue, Shadowcat, Impulse, Hellion, Cannonball, Gambit, Sage, Mirage, and Jubilee reporting for the Danger Room session." He named them from left to right, and as their name was called, they each performed some sort of small trick with their powers. When Bobby was done, he transformed into his ice form, and smiled.

Logan scowled. "Shouldn't you brats be in class?"

"Nah. We're right where we need to be," Julian replied.

"My stars and garters. I do believe our young, restless charges have decided to mutiny," Hank joked.

Kitty replied, "Not a mutiny, Beast. We're all on the same team, and no matter what you guys think, we're in this for the long-haul. Through thick and thin, the best and the worst, the good and bad. We're X-Men, and we're not going to let you forget it." She met Peter's gaze and offered a smile, which he returned gratefully.

Michael added, "A young heart's desire cannot be quelled by any force of nature. A wise X-Man once told me that. So, we're following our heart's desire."

Rogue floated next to her peers. "This is our choice. We won't back down."

The older students smiled, Jean in particular. "I think we have the man in the control booth to thank for this, right Professor?" Jean asked.

"Your telepathy is as fine-tuned as ever, Phoenix," Charles smiled.

"So what's the plan, Cyclops?" Bobby asked.

Scott smiled. Though they were young, Scott knew that no matter what the future held, they believed in Xavier's dream. And the strength in that dream would make them an unstoppable force.

"Let's do this by the numbers," he replied, a crimson shine reflecting off his visor, betraying the deadly optic blasts held at bay.

On cue, a multitude of soldiers as well as a fleet of Sentinels invaded the room. Scott looked over his entire team once more. "On my mark," Scott held his ground, waiting for their enemies to make the first move. He only had to wait a moment—one of the Sentinels shot an amber laser in their direction.

Then, all hell broke loose.

Notes:

Thanks to all for reading this story. I had a great time writing this story, and I'm extremely grateful for all of the positive reviews. I encourage all of you to keep plugging away at your own stories and helping others along as they refine their skills.

Anonimo: Wow…calling me out! I promise, I'll get back to work on it!

Ratdogtwo: This chapter should have answered your question.

Odd Little Turtle: I'm glad you've been following the story, and I hope you like the ending.

Babyjay2fly: We didn't lose any of the good guys and they all made it out pretty much unscathed.


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